Must've Been Somethin' Else, Then
by idcabtthisish
Summary: This is a collection of Richonne one-shots, much like my story Loosen Your Corset. YES, I'm taking prompts, so any missing scenes/moments or AU stories you might want, just let me know! I'm pretty open minded. Pls leave them in a REVIEW (for book marking purposes). I'll rate it M but each one-shot will vary & will have its own rating. No more prompts. Story is COMPLETE!
1. First Day on the Job

A/N: These will be a collection of Richonne-centered one-shots. It'll be similar to those of you who follow "Loosen Your Corset, Princess" in the sense that I wanted a single place to post all the one-shots of our beloved couple as opposed to posting a thousand one-shots. I will be accepting prompts, of course, but PLEASE leave them in a Review as opposed to PMing me for book-marking purposes. Thank you SO very much! Also, I always love it when people ask for sequels or an elaboration based on a one-shot I've already posted. I don't mind AU and/or Crossover stories, either.

Prompts are based off of first come, first serve bases. REMEMBER TO LEAVE IN A REVIEW.

Thank you, and I look forward to interacting with all of you, and taking this Richonne journey with you all.

As always, I am not Robert Kirkman (thank GOD) or Scott Gimple (thank JESUS) so TWD or its characters do not belong to me. If it did… well I think we'd all be much happier.

ENJOY! =]

-idcabtthisish (formerly thamockingjayandpeeta)

* * *

 _I always wanted to get inside of Rick's head when he first sees Michonne in her new uniform in "Forget". I'd like to think that when he first sees her, he's taken aback. In the most hopeful depths of my soul, Rick being a Sherriff before the Turn HAS to still mean something to him. Granted it doesn't seem like it. 5B and ALL of season 6 Rick has REALLY shown his ass (don't get me started on his un-appreciation for Morgan's cell – for heaven's sake he used to be a cop! Surely he can appreciate Morgan's stance on this) but anyway, in my mind, it means something to him_.

 **FIRST DAY ON THE JOB**

 **Rated K**

Rick stared at the jacket, shirt, and tie, and wondered what in the hell it all meant. The three articles of clothing stood out against the white of his sheets, and Rick found himself reminiscing about life before the Turn: him and Shane, deciding to join the police academy together, passing their tests, becoming beat cops, and slowly but surely climbing their way up the latter.

This uniform used to mean something to him.

He wasn't sure it still did. So much had changed…. At one point he vaguely remembered saying that they didn't kill the living, and now…. Now he'd lost track of how many people he'd killed just to be here in, this moment.

Things were different now.

" _You gon' find yourself a place where it's like how it used to be_." Bob's voice started to ring in Rick's ear. It wasn't the first time, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. " _And if you let too much go along the way, that's not gonna work. 'Cause you gon' be back in the real world_."

" _This is the real world, Bob_ ," Rick had tried to argue.

" _Nah, this… is a nightmare. And nightmares end_."

He still wasn't sold on Bob's way of thinking, but it was his way of thinking that had the rest of his people settling inside these walls. It was that same thinking that had him at odds with his best friend.

Yet the uniform was familiar, but Rick wasn't sure it was in all the right ways. This uniform reminded him of another time, another place, another life.

He thought about his hat, the hat the Carl still held so tightly to, even after all this time. That hat still meant something to Carl, so Rick knew what it is he had to do. He had to put this uniform on, for his son's sake, because Alexandria needed to work. Alexandria _had_ to work.

Rick unwrapped the towel from around his waist and started getting dressed. It would take some getting used to, but he'd put on this uniform and parade around this town because that's what Deanna wanted. If they wanted a show, he'd give them a show.

He'd just finished tying his tie when Daryl knocked on his door.

"You ready?" asked Daryl.

Rick nodded. "Yah, almost."

"Good. Carol's downstairs waitin'." Rick nodded again and Daryl walked off.

He grabbed the black jacket, the jacket that was so familiar yet still completely foreign, and put it on.

He didn't glance into the mirror. He didn't see the point. He hardly recognized himself anymore.

He thought it made sense, figuring he barely recognized the world anymore.

He made his way downstairs where he would sneak out of Alexandria and into the woods.

Most of him felt unashamed about what it is he, Carol, and Daryl were about to do.

But some part of him, a small piece of him that remembered his previous life, the minute part of him that thought this uniform might still mean something to him, felt guilty as he made his way back into Alexandria, a plan between the three of them. And even though he knew it was a good plan, even though he knew it was the right thing to do, he couldn't help but feel as if he were turning into a dirty cop.

…

Back in her own room Michonne was feeling slightly self-conscious. She hadn't had to look at herself in what felt like forever. Before the Turn she'd always been confident. She cultured, intelligent, beautiful, artistic. She could wear the hell out of a dress and a pair of a jeans.

Now… now she was staring at herself dressed as a police woman, promising to protect a group of people she hardly even knew. Sure they were trying their hardest to make her feel welcome, but at the end of the day… she didn't know them, and they didn't know her.

Her group… her _family_ … they'd earned her protection, and she would happily defend them with her life. But these Alexandrians… at some point they were going to have to step up.

This uniform meant something to them, so it had to mean something to her. It _had_ to.

It fit well enough – not that this was a fashion statement. Michonne was used to things fitting. She was a woman, a _real_ woman, a woman with curves in all the right places, so normally whatever she put on _worked_.

But she wasn't used to this. This… was different.

She just didn't know if it was the damn uniform or the damn town.

She turned sideways to get a good look at herself, noticing the strings hanging from the back of her jacket. She grabbed her katana and sliced the thread, and then stared at her sword.

The sword had saved her life on many occasions, but it had also caused her great heartache. This sword, for all its good uses, had killed Hershel, and it had taken her a long time to get over that.

She had had to remember that it was also the same sword that had saved Rick's life.

She stared at it, sighing, wondering if she'd need it here.

Before she could make up her mind, Rick walked by.

She wasn't sure why suddenly she was nervous. She hadn't been _nervous_ in years. She hadn't had a reason to be. But having him suddenly round the corner, briefly looking her over, had her face warming.

She blinked rapidly, noting him in his own uniform.

It looked good on him. It _suited_ him.

But she knew. Just from looking at him, she knew: he didn't buy into it anymore.

That, she knew, was going to be a problem.

…

He found himself pleasantly surprised when he saw her standing there, dressed and ready for her first day on the job. He thought he might need to give her a pep talk – maybe she'd be nervous – but seeing her in that uniform took away any doubt he might have had.

His breath caught in his throat – just a little, just enough for him to realize that he was having a hard time swallowing, but he didn't know why.

What he did know was that she was born for this. This was her element. Her ability to adapt to any situation that she felt comfortable enough to adapt to… hell, she'd be damn near unstoppable.

The uniform looked good on her. He wondered if she'd be offended if he told her that it was made for her. For all their differences before the Turn, seeing her dressed like this convinced Rick that this moment, right here, was her destiny.

She'd be a force to reckoned with out there. No one would dare cross her, and he nearly pitied whoever might try.

In the back of his mind, he realized that that had to include him.

Any thought that he _might_ have shared his plan with her went out the window when he saw her in that uniform. She _wanted_ this place, he remembered.

And damn it, Rick realized as he stared at her in that uniform, she deserved it. She deserved it as much as any of them. She was willing to do the work. She _needed_ to fit in.

Still, he couldn't help but voice his opinion. Some of it, at least.

"I don't know if this is some kinda play, handing authority to strangers," he told her, leaning against the doorframe.

"The authority to break up fistfights," said Michonne, cocking her head to the side.

"If it was that she shoulda given one of these to Daryl."

Michonne shook her head and gave him a soft smile. It was such a rare thing to see, Michonne smiling, at least when it came to him. Carl or Judith could get her to smile at the drop of a hat. And as of lately, he understood that the two of them were truly at odds. She wanted to be here, and he didn't.

" _So we're going. All of us_." Her words had been definite and had left no room for argument, so he had followed her, because the group had wanted to.

They were adapting – most of them. Him? Not so much.

"I don't know if this is for us, or for them," admitted Michonne, bringing him back to the present. "Or maybe Deanna's trying to get rid of us and them. You put these jackets on me and you, have the people see it. If that's the play, that'd be smart. And she seems smart."

"Smart for then or smart for now?" Rick asked.

Michonne stared at him. "This _is_ now."

Rick froze and looked at her.

It was that moment that realize that he definitely couldn't tell her.

She would do what she had to in order to make this place work.

He had to respect that.

He had to remember that.

He wouldn't tell her. He _couldn't_ tell her.

For now, he'd let her have her moment.

The uniform looked too damn good on her. And if it bought her peace for the time being, then so be it. When it all went to shit – and it would go to shit – he could only hope that she'd still be on his side.

That she would still be his right hand man, despite the uniform, despite the title.

Despite the _job_.


	2. Moving On and Staying Put

_I GOT MY FIRST PROMPT! It's already written, I'll post it soon._

 _Just an FYI, a lot of these one-shots are my own prompts/thoughts/head-canons, so just because a prompt is requested doesn't mean it'll be immediately posted. Keep being patient, I'll post it when I get the chance. For now I'm writing to give people ideas of things they might want to prompt._

 _IF YOU ARE SIGNED IN AND REQUEST A PROMPT, I NORMALLY ALWAYS RESPOND TO LET YOU KNOW IF I'LL DO IT OR NOT. If you're a guest and request a prompt, you'll just have to keep reading to see if I did it or not._

 _Anyway, back to the story at hand: So how did Michonne end up staying with Rick? This is ONE take on how this might have happened. Might write another one where Carl has a say too._

 **MOVING ON AND STAYING PUT**

 **Rated K**

Rick stepped into the living room, looking around. Everyone was there: Father Gabriel, Sasha, Abraham, Rosita, Eugene, Tara, Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, Carl, Judith, Daryl, and Carol. The mood was quiet, almost ominous. No one was really talking. All eyes turned towards Rick as he stepped off the last stair.

"So are we really gonna do this then?" asked Rick.

Most of the group stayed silent, probably because the answer was obvious. Most of the people were packing up their belongings.

"Michonne said we should try," Maggie stated.

"Did she now?" Rick kept his face masked, though he wasn't sure it'd fool Michonne. Nothing fooled her.

"I did," responded Michonne, her tone demanding but still gentle nonetheless.

"I think she's right," Glenn told Rick. "Deanna cleaned out an entire house for us, so…." Glenn picked up one bag and a box. "We're just down the street."

Rick stared at Glenn, at all of them, and then nodded, once. They were really going to try and make it work, then. Alexandria was – somehow, some way – supposed to become home.

"I ain't goin' nowhere," stated Daryl. "There's a room right down the hall," he said, his head jerking to the downstairs bedroom. "I'll be right back, soon as I help some of 'em settle in."

Rick nodded but it didn't stop the uneasy knots in his stomach. He didn't know what was wrong. They'd been here for a while now, Alexandria's people clearly weren't a threat…. They'd just all been together for so long, and to separate now….

But they couldn't all stay here. They _couldn't_. There wasn't enough room, and he was sure that the couples wanted privacy. Glenn and Maggie deserved that, as did Abraham and Rosita.

Rick made his way back upstairs. He knew he should help them move out, but a part of him felt like a parent watching his kids pack up for college. He didn't feel… right about any of this, and he had yet to figure out why.

He should be happy that they had a place that they could call their own.

Rick made his way to his bedroom. There wasn't enough room for everyone, he reminded himself for the millionth time. Deep down he _knew_ that, but accepting it….

To think that his group wouldn't be in arm's reach, that if anything ever happened to them he might not get there in time…. This wasn't like the prison where even though they had their own cell there was still a lack of privacy. They were in one space, he could _hear_ , he could stick his head out and _see_.

This was different.

He had just sat on the bed, sighing heavily, when there was a soft knock on the door. He looked up and found himself staring at Michonne.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey yourself," responded Rick.

Michonne paused at the doorway and then stepped into his room. "This is going to work, Rick."

He nodded. "I know." He _did_ know. It didn't make it any easier. "Where's everyone gonna go?"

"There's a place at the church where I think Father Gabriel will stay. Eugene, Rosita, Abraham, and Tara are gonna stay together. I think Carol's gonna stay with Glenn and Maggie. Sasha's still deciding on where she'll be most useful."

"And you?" The question was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and he felt his stomach tighten even more.

Michonne stared at him for several moments before answering. "You told me once that Carl needed me. That you couldn't be his father and his best friend, that he needed someone like me to make him laugh. Do you remember that?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you remember what I told you?"

Rick nodded. "I do."

"What?"

"You said you were done takin' breaks."

"I said I was done taking breaks," she responded almost as soon as he had finished speaking. "You, Judith, and Carl… you're my family. I belong here. So I had no plans to leave."

Rick let out a slow breath he hadn't even known he was holding. He felt his heart start to beat properly for the first time since the group decided they were going to move out.

So this is what was wrong. He was worried about losing Michonne. He didn't need to worry about what that meant yet. It wasn't important. For now, all that mattered was that she was staying.

"Good," was all Rick said. It was all he'd allow himself to say.

She gave him a soft smile. "I'm gonna go help them start moving."

"I'll be down in a bit," he told her. She nodded and disappeared. Rick sat there for a few minutes, allowing the knots to untie in his stomach. It was a new chapter, sure.

But that was okay. The characters were all the same. They were going in different directions, but that was life. They were starting to live again. And even though they were splitting up, they weren't splitting apart.

Rick thought he could live with that.


	3. Welcome to the Kingdom

_Prompt— "_ _I'd like a possessive, jealous Rick. Since they are together now, I would like to read how he would act when another man shows interest in Michonne. Maybe a blacksmith from one of the other communities could make her a weapon in an attempt to woo her._ _" –Guest._

 _-and-_

" _I love it! And I liked the Guesst idea, about A jealous Rick." –B Sugar_

 _-and-_

" _This is off to an interesting start. I would also like a jealous Rick." –Lavender73_

 _WARNING: THIS ONE SHOT CONTAINS SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DON'T READ THE COMICS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!_

 _So I got my first prompt! Woohoo! I decided to use Ezekiel since he isn't on the show yet – and let's face it, no one would be dumb enough to hit on Michonne in front of Rick if they knew them. It only makes sense to use Ezekiel since he's attracted to her in the comics. Plus he's arrogant enough to pull it off._

 _This was kind of hard because who the hell knows who'll be alive? I don't even want to drop names at this point LOL._

 _I do want to say I don't think jealousy is Rick's forte. Seriously he never even mentioned that he knew about Lori/Shane until SHE said something…. And with Pete/Jessie… well he just took her LMAO. So this might be OOC._

 _Enjoy!_

 **WELCOME TO THE KINGDOM**

 **Rated T**

Michonne noted the line of buses and knew that they had reached their destination.

"Well this is certainly the best looking high school I've ever been to," Michonne commented, causing Rick to smirk. She was right. The schools back in Atlanta hadn't been this nice.

Rick parked the RV and turned around to the group. "We're here." It was a statement that really didn't need to be made, but he said it nonetheless.

It was their first time coming to the Kingdom.

Rick had been here a handful of times, normally with Jesus, but this time he brought along his core group. It was time for them to meet Ezekiel, and for Ezekiel to meet them if they were going to go to war together at some point.

Only with joined forces would they be able to defeat Negan and his Saviors.

Outside Rick turned towards Michonne. "You ready?" She nodded, her sword on her back. "Let's go."

Rick nodded to the group of men who greeted him at the entrance. They motioned for him to follow them as they made their way into the school, passing the people in the yard. Some of them waved and Rick nodded.

At their entrance Ezekiel stood up. He had such a presence about him and demanded a quiet respect that Rick still wasn't sure he'd earned, but he was going to help them defeat Negan, so Rick would play nice.

Ezekiel stretched out his arms, Shiva next to him, and smiled warmly at them as he walked towards them. For a brief second Ezekiel's step faltered and his eyes widened, but he quickly regained his composure and kept walking.

"Welcome back," Ezekiel said. "I see you bought your group."

"Yah," nodded Rick. "These are a few of my people." Rick would have started introducing everyone but Ezekiel seemed to have eyes on only one person in particular.

Rick felt something a little foreign in the middle of his gut, something he couldn't immediately place or understand what was wrong. He just felt his stomach drop and something akin to primal possessiveness settle into his veins.

"This is Michonne," Rick told Ezekiel, and it took a whole lot of effort to not grab her hand or wrap his arm around her waist.

Ezekiel smiled. "Such a beautiful name. It's fitting." Michonne remained silent. "You can tell a lot of a person from their name."

"Really? So tell me, do you live up to the hype of what your name is?" Her voice was low, but it had an edge to it that Rick doubted anyone but him could hear.

When Ezekiel studied her, Rick realized that he wasn't the only who heard the edge in Michonne's voice. He watched as Ezekiel gave her a once over that had Rick gritting his teeth.

"War is coming. I do not have to be a prophet to know that. But our kingdoms will suffer greatly. Yet we will rebuild one day. Perhaps I'll have you by my side, as my Queen?"

"Not in this life, or the next one," responded Michonne coldly.

Ezekiel's smile widened. "I'm sure I can change your mind. You'll find that I can be… persuasive, to say the least."

Rick shifted as the bubble in his stomach finally burst. He understood what he was feeling: jealousy. They hadn't come across anyone new in so long. The group knew he was with Michonne, let them tell they'd expected the two of them to hook up long before they did, so none of his people had ever been a threat to him.

His jealousy didn't stem from insecurity – he knew Michonne loved him, and that her loyalty lied with him and Carl and Judith, and that she'd never do anything to jeapordize that. He wouldn't either.

No, his jealousy stemmed from the fact that he didn't like another man looking at her the way Ezekiel was. Michonne was beautiful, fierce, a warrior, he was sure she had her share of admirers, but no one had ever been so bold, at least not in front of him.

He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.

"Not in this case," Rick said, and his tone was firm.

For the first time Ezekiel's eyes flickered over to Rick's. Understanding seemed to dawn on him almost instantly.

"I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries."

"Well you did," replied Rick.

"It won't happen again," Ezekiel said, standing a little straighter.

"No, it won't," stated Michonne.

Ezekiel looked at her for several moments and then nodded. "Again, I apologize for stepping on any toes. That was not my intent. We're all friends here, right?" He finally looked at the rest of the group. "We have one common goal? To defeat Negan? Let's not waste anymore time. Come. I'll show you all around."

"Why do you have a tiger?" asked Michonne, and Rick nearly gave himself whiplash as he turned to face her. He wasn't sure why she needed to ask him anymore questions. As far as he was concerned, her conversations with Ezekiel should be done.

"Shiva is family," Ezekiel said. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her. Have you ever felt that way?"

Rick inhaled slowly as they started to walk. He wasn't sure if Ezekiel was trying to get a rise out of him, but it was working. He watched in silence as Ezekiel gave Michonne another once-over and he felt his blood start to boil.

 _No one_ should look at Michonne like that, except him.

He _knew_ that look, the desire to see underneath the vest, shirt, and pants. Even more than that, the desire to see beneath the strength and the fighter that she was. What would it take to make her tremble? To make her weak in the knees? To make her become and come undone? What touch would make her unravel?

These were things Rick very well knew the answer to, and Ezekiel damn sure wanted to find all of them out.

Over his head body.

"Yes," Michonne finally replied. "With Rick." She sent him a look over her shoulder and he instantly relaxed. She was still with him. Of course she was still with him. She couldn't be charmed by Ezekiel. He had nothing to worry about.

Jesus gently bumped into him and Rick met the soft smile on his face. "Relax. You know how Ezekiel is. And you know how Michonne is."

"I know," Rick bristled. "I just don't like how he's tryin' to welcome her to the Kingdom."

Jesus chuckled. "Well keep your emotions in check. We need him, and his people to beat Negan."

As true as that was, when Rick heard Michonne laugh at something Ezekiel said, he realized he couldn't make Jesus any promises.


	4. It's Cool

A/N: SO I've decided I won't post on the weekends, or on Tuesdays. Tuesdays will be reserved for 'The Start of the Next World.' Hopefully that story will inspire some prompts from you all, and some more one-shots for me. =)

* * *

 _Always felt like Michonne and Carl would have had a conversation about Richonne happening, so consider this a missing scene in "Knots Untie." Literally have had this in my head since before I made the decision to start writing Richonne fan fic. Hope you all like it! I've gotten two prompts (total) so far. I could use some more! Thanks, ya'll!_

 **IT'S COOL**

 **Rated K**

Rick and Michonne walked towards the house, lost in their own thoughts. He was probably thinking about the upcoming mission, and what he would say to everyone at the meeting.

" _We're gonna have to fight_ ," he had told Carol.

Funnily enough Michonne's mind was in another place. She wasn't thinking about the Hilltop, or the Saviors…. And she certainly wasn't going to think about Maggie and her baby, and the feelings that looking at the sonogram had awakened in her.

No, she was thinking about something else.

Some _one_ else.

Carl was sitting outside on the rocking chair, Judith in his lap, when they walked up to the porch. He immediately stood up when he saw them. Judith started blabbering when she saw them, and gave them a wave.

"How'd it go here?" asked Rick.

"It went fine," Carl responded. He glanced at the blood on his father's shirt. "I guess you all ran into some trouble."

"A little," nodded Rick, walking into the house, Michonne behind him. "I'm havin' a meetin' in an hour with everyone."

Carl stared at his father for a few moments, stopping just outside the door. "Okay. I'll take Judith and hang out with Enid for a while."

"That's a good idea."

"Can I walk you over there?" asked Michonne. She could feel Rick staring at her but she kept her eyes on Carl.

Carl gave her a soft smile. "Sure."

Without looking at Rick she followed Carl back outside, closing the door behind her. They walked down the steps in silence and started heading towards Enid's.

"So I know your dad talked to you earlier about us," started Michonne.

Carl looked at her. "He did."

"I would have rather you found out another way… _any_ other way, to be honest. Everything happened so quickly…." Her voice trailed off as moments of last night flashed into her mind: a pack of mints, a simple hand hold, and a kiss that turned into so much more.

And then running out after Jesus, only to find Carl there.

"That's what my dad said." She could hear the smirk in his voice and tried not to cringe.

She pushed forward. "You and I… we're friends," she told him truthfully. "We don't really keep things from each other. I don't want you to think—"

"I don't," interrupted Carl, and she could feel his gaze, so she met it.

"You, your dad, Judith… you three mean everything to me."

"We should." Michonne stared at him. "Come on, it's not like the feeling's not mutual. It is. And honestly… don't you think it's about time?"

Michonne shifted. "Are you saying you saw this coming?"

"I'm saying _everybody_ saw this coming. No one's surprised." Michonne stayed silent. "Maybe my dad is. He can be… clueless. Aloof."

"Well he's a man, so…." Michonne shrugged and Carl laughed. "I never thought about it either, really. I never really had _time_ to think about it."

"Well you have time now."

Michonne gave him a soft smile as they reached Enid's, and then she sobered up. "Look… I don't want you to think I'm trying to take the place of your mom or anything—"

"No one can take the place of my mom." Carl's voice was firm, his gaze fierce. "But if there's anybody who's allowed to be a mother-figure to me, it's you. That's basically what I was trying to tell you last night, when I told you I'd do it for you. You're special, Michonne. So I'll tell you the same thing I told my dad today: it's cool. I know you're different."

"How?" asked Michonne.

Carl sighed and looked down for a moment. "My dad… my dad never talked to me about Jessie." Michonne froze. "Did he ever talk to you about her?"

"No," replied Michonne.

"Why do you think that is? My dad discusses everything of importance with you. But he didn't talk to either of us about Jessie. She was just… _there_ one day. Jessie was familiar, she reminded my dad of another life…. But she wasn't important. The first thing my dad said to me was that he was gonna tell me about you two. So, like I said, it's cool." He blinked at her and gave her another smile. "And not only is it cool, it's right."

Michonne felt the unease she'd been feeling slip away. The whole time she'd been worried that he'd feel betrayed, feel as if she'd kept some big secret from him, but he didn't.

Michonne smiled at Carl and then snatched Judith. "And what about you? What do _you_ think about me and your dad?"

Judith smiled and leaned into Michonne, hugging her like she always did. She was such a sweet angel, thought Michonne.

"See?" said Carl, taking Judith back. "Even Judith agrees. I told you it was cool." He gave her a final nod and headed up the stairs, never looking back. Judith waved goodbye to her.

Michonne made her way back home.

Yah, it was cool, she mused. And it felt right.


	5. The Windows to the Soul

A/N: Hey guys! So if you're a guest and you wanna write a novel/long response in regards to one of my stories, PLEASE sign in so we can discuss it in depth. When I say I love interacting with you all, I'm being genuine! I love hearing your input on our beloved characters, so please sign in so we can PM!

With that said, I'd like to address some things. In regards to "It's Cool," a Guest reviewed that they didn't agree that Carl's gaze would be fierce: I meant that he was letting her know that he didn't want Michonne to be worried about feeling like that, because she was so far off in what his thoughts were. He was being firm to let her know that he didn't think that replacing Lori was her intensions. So everything you said in regards to how Carl would feel, is how I was trying to portray him.

Secondly, another Guest (or maybe the same one, who knows?) made the comment that they didn't think Michonne would be so cold to Ezekiel in my story "The Kingdom" —she was in the Comics, which is why I went that route. And I absolutely love your prompt, I can't wait to start writing it.

Now back to your regularly scheduled program:

* * *

 _Had my own prompt in mind: four times Rick checked out Michonne and the one time Michonne did it to Rick._

 **THE WINDOWS TO THE SOUL**

 **Rated T**

 **1). MUST'VE BEEN SOMETHIN' ELSE, THEN**

Rick took one final look around the cells he passed, and convinced that they hadn't left anything behind, started to make his way down the prison's steps. He nearly faltered when he saw Michonne approaching the end of the steps. He stopped and stared at her.

"We're ready," she told him, and he marveled at the way she hardly ever raised her voice, but she commanded and demanded his attention. They gazed at each other for a few moments, Rick finally looking away as he made his way down the stairs. He could feel her still looking at him but he continued to look anywhere but at her.

He wasn't ready to address the guilt he was living with. No, he deserved to suffer for the time being for ever being stupid enough to consider sacrificing one of their own.

They hadn't talked about it yet.

"The deal the Governor offered about me – you had to think about it." He stared at her, both dumbfounded at her words and at the fact that she seemed to be able to see right through him. She _knew_ how haunted he was at his decision. "You had to. I get it."

And just like that, the guilt started to lessen. He continued to stare at her, trying to figure out what magic she possessed to know him the way she did. It reminded him of what she had admitted to him not so long ago: " _I know you see things_."

He stuck his hand in his pocket and nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I came real close."

"But you didn't." She was assuaging his guilt, and for the first time he felt like all the barriers he had were starting to fall in regards to Michonne. It made him nervous; if those walls came down, he didn't know what would happen. So he didn't say anything; just nodded. She sent him a soft smile and he quickly looked away. "I never thanked you."

That had him looking at her again. "For what?" He closed the cell door behind him as they stepped through, more so out of habit than anything.

"For getting me out there, that day." She turned and looked back at him as he approached her, and they locked eyes again. "Taking me in."

"Well if you didn't have that baby formula, I wouldn't have" he said. Boundaries. He needed boundaries with her. He wasn't sure why, he just knew if they didn't establish them, all hell would break loose.

"You could have just taken the formula." And as hell bent as he seemed to be on not crossing any line, she seemed just as determined to let him in. Her gaze was fierce, her words firm, and even though she'd spoken a simple fact he felt like she was daring him to contradict her.

"Well, it must've been somethin' else, then." The admission came out of his mouth before he could stop it, and then his brain stopped communicating with him all together and his eyes acted on their own accord and he looked her over.

He had to look away, or say something, quickly, before he did something stupid.

He settled for both.

He looked away and stated, "You know it was Carl who made the call." Yah, Carl. Talk about Carl. Carl, his son, the son he'd had with _Lori_. Lori, his wife, the wife who was now dead, but his wife nonetheless. "He said you belonged here. You're one of us."

Michonne's gaze softened a little and she walked away. He waited until she had walked a few feet before turning to stare at her.

There was just something about her….

Boundaries. He had to remember to establish boundaries.

…

 **2). I'M DONE TAKING BREAKS**

He could hear the laughter downstairs in the dining room and smiled. It was such a rare thing to hear that he stopped walking down the stairs and just listened for a few minutes. Carl was laughing at how big Michonne's shirt was.

Rick heard the unmistakable sound of cereal being poured into a bowl.

"I wish we had soy milk," Michonne said, and it startled Rick a little, to hear her say " _we_." It would have been easy to refer to just herself, but she hadn't. It puzzled him – not that she thought of him and Carl as hers, but that he hadn't realized it sooner.

" _It's for you_." That's what he had told Carl when Michonne knocked on that door. But maybe it had been for both of them.

Before he could dwell on it for too long Carl's laughter snapped him out of his thoughts.

"It was so gross. I mean, literally, I would rather have powdered milk than to have to drink that stuff again. I'd rather have Judith's formula—"

Rick cringed at the mention of his daughter's name. He swallowed down the grief that rose up and headed down the remainder of the stairs. The silence in the dining room was his cue, but before he could get there he heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

Carl would certainly go about the business of shutting down now.

Rick made his way into the kitchen. He knew he should go out there but he needed to get himself under control first.

Michonne walked into the kitchen just as he started looking around. The place was a pigsty.

Yet somehow, with her, it didn't seem all that bad.

"Thank you," Rick told her without looking at her. He felt her gaze and turned to her. "I heard him laughing in there." He could see her nodding out of the side of his eye as he opened a drawer. "I forgot what that sounded like." Michonne moved and Rick did the same. "I can't be his father and his best friend." Now he turned around to look at her, to ask her something without ever posing a question. "He needs you."

He saw the way Michonne softened, knew that she would take on the responsibility, but it was important for him to let her know she could back out if she needed to.

"I know it's a lot to throw at you. So if you're ever feelin' like you need a break—"

"I'm done taking breaks." They were just a few words, but they rendered him speechless nonetheless. There was a firmness in her tone, a dialect that showed him she wouldn't change her mind.

It was enough to floor him, and it had him nodding and turning around. Sometimes he couldn't look at her for too long, though he wasn't sure why.

"So what's the plan?" The question nearly threw him off guard. He wondered how it was that he was always so effected by her, but she never seemed to be bothered by him. "This place… is it home, or just a stop along the way?"

Rick slowly turned to face her again. "Well let's just stay here until we figure it out."

Michonne inhaled sharply, and then nodded, tilting her head. "Well we'll need more supplies. I'll go with Carl and get some." She started to turn away to leave when Rick spoke.

"I'll come too," he said with a nod, and he was about to follow behind her when Michonne whipped around.

"You were unconscious yesterday."

"I'm awake today," shrugged Rick. There wasn't _shit_ she'd be able to say to him to let them go off alone. Not when he'd just gotten her back.

"We need you strong." He froze. "Just rest. Just one more day." They stared at each other for a few moments, and it was a silent battle of wills. It was her concern that convinced him. That, mixed with the fact that he knew Michonne could protect herself, that she'd give her life to protect Carl, had him nodding in agreement. He looked away and she left the kitchen.

Without knowing why, he turned and watched her as she walked away.

…

 **3). NO RICK, I DON'T HAVE A PROBLEM**

Michonne and Carl were wise enough to let Rick have his tantrum in peace. He tried to keep his emotions in check but the desire to ram his head against the wall was tenfold.

 _Damn it_. They had _needed_ the guns here.

He watched in silence as Michonne bent down and fingered something. Rising without looking at him she asked, "You got any other police stations in town?"

"I _was_ the police here." Rick knew his voice was laced with annoyance and anger, but he couldn't exactly help it. He made an effort to check himself. "Me and a few other guys. Ain't a big town." He needed to _think_. "There's other places to check. May not have as many guns as were in here, but—"

"We need as many guns as were in here."

Rick felt like snapping, _No shit_ , but he kept his temper.

"Ammo, too."

"Yah, we do." The edge was back in his voice as he glared at her, but she wasn't looking at him. "But right now, I only got a line on a couple. There's a few places out on the main street, bars, a liquor store. Owners had a gun or two behind the counter that people didn't know about. I did; I signed the permits. They might still be there." He paused, expecting her to say something, but she said nothing. She was looking down, almost as if she weren't paying attention to him. "Do you gotta a problem with that approach?"

Even as the words left his mouth he realized how incredibly childish they sounded. It was like he was trying to pick a fight with her. He supposed it was easier to take his frustrations out on her instead of thinking about how he had failed _again_.

Michonne stared at him. "No, Rick, I don't have a problem."

Her soft voice was such a contrast to his own harsh one that he felt like an idiot.

Then he felt like an even bigger idiot when she handed him the bullet.

He gently grabbed it from her, their hands brushing lightly, and it was enough to calm him.

He wasn't ready to explore what that meant yet, so he told his heart to stop beating so fast.

Yet he couldn't quite stop himself from watching her as she made her exit.

…

 **4). RIGHT THERE, THAT'S THE DEAL**

"I'm goin' on a run." Carl's voice had Rick stiffening, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the way Michonne slightly perked up.

"Where?" asked Rick.

"I thought maybe the one thing people didn't loot was cribs and there's that baby place Mom's friend Sara ran. It's just around the corner."

Rick lowered his head, almost praying for patience. "Carl…."

"Dad, it's just around the corner," argued Carl. "And there's all those walker traps."

"You're gonna need some help carrying the box." Both Rick and Carl looked at Michonne.

"What?" Carl asked.

"If you're gonna get a crib, you have to get the box," shrugged Michonne. "It's big and heavy. You're gonna need help carrying the box." Carl gave her a look but Michonne didn't let that deter her. "You are getting a crib, right?"

Carl nodded. "That's what I said."

Michonne glanced behind her. "Then I'll go with him."

Rick stared at her back in silence. One hand he didn't want Carl going out there alone. On the other hand, he didn't know shit about Michonne, and to send her with Carl might be just as bad as sending him out alone.

He thought about Morgan, who had risked his life for him once upon a time. Was he willing to risk Carl's life?

He didn't know a lot about her. What he did know was that he didn't think he liked her too much.

But his gut trusted her.

"Right there," Rick finally stated, standing up. "That's the deal." He stared at Carl and Carl stared back. "You get into trouble you holler, okay? I'll hear it from here."

Carl nodded. "Okay."

Carl walked off and Michonne stood up, bending down to grab her sword.

It seemed natural to watch her strut away.

…

 **5) I'VE NEVER SEEN YOUR FACE LIKE THAT**

Michonne stepped out of the bathroom, a grin on her face, her toothbrush still in her hand.

"How long was I in there for?" she asked no one in particular.

"Twenty minutes," responded Rick.

"I could not stop brushing," she admitted as she listened to him walk towards her.

He rounded the corner and she stared at him, her breath catching in her throat just a little. The two of them stared at each other, Michonne tilting her head to the side.

She was openly checking him out.

To say that Rick wasn't attractive would be an insult the man – he _was_ attractive. The hair, the salt and pepper flickered throughout his beard, the forget-me-not blue eyes – definitely unforgettable. Michonne would have to be blind or dead to not think that before the Turn Rick Grimes probably turned heads and stopped traffic.

The issue was when you lived the life they lived, it was hard to think about how attractive someone might be, especially when their face had long given up the war and surrendered.

But to have him in front of her like this, on a night where she could brush her teeth for twenty minutes, when they had the luxury of warm water… she could appreciate the handsome face that had been hidden all those weeks on the road.

Without meaning to Michonne's grin widened. "I've never seen your face like that," she told him, and for the briefest of moments, she wondered if he'd been waiting for her.

"That's how I felt, before, and after." He walked passed her, rubbing his face, but she stopped him.

"Look… I get while we're playing it safe. We should. I just… I have a good feeling about this place."

Rick didn't immediately answer, but he didn't have to. Without the beard he was even easier to read.

"Well, I hope you're right," he told her.

"Yah, me too," admitted Michonne.

She told herself it wasn't so that he'd always have a place to shave.


	6. Letting Go

_Wrote a pretty similar prompt like this for The Hunger Games, so this idea came from my own head. I won't say too much more, just know that this takes place during "The Next World."_

 _Also, keep the prompts/ideas/suggestions coming!_

 **LETTING GO**

 **Rated T**

She stood up and left, unable to watch the two of them anymore. She could feel their gazes on her back as she tip-toed out of the room, and she took special care to keep her eyes straight ahead.

Outside she could let her emotions show a little more. Most people were inside, watching the scene unfold before them, just like she had been doing before it had become too much.

She wasn't sure where she was headed. She just needed some time, needed to get away for a little while. Her white dress fluttered in the soft breeze, forcing her to gather her dress at the bottom as she walked, her heels echoing on the pavement.

She let her feet carry her, and it wasn't long before she realized where she was going. When she reached her destination she climbed up the latter, not at all worried about slipping on her heels or catching her dress and falling.

She was already dead.

She climbed up the watch guard post and stopped once she reached the top and realized she wouldn't be alone. She debated for a few moments if she should just climb back down or stay. In the end she decided to walk towards the person.

He was dressed in black slacks and a white button-up, and he gripped the rail tight enough to make his knuckles pale against the darkness of his skin.

"Fancy seeing you up here," he said in his deep voice, his tone laced with culture and intelligence.

She stood next to him without immediately responding, her dress blowing as another breeze blew. She tucked her hair behind her ear and stared ahead into the night.

"I don't think we've ever met," said the man. "At least not officially."

"I think that was by design," she responded, still not looking at him, but she could see him nodding in agreement.

"I guess this is as hard for you as it is for me, to see them together." This time it was her turn to nod. "I've been waiting for this to happen since they met. He's everything I wasn't. I really became worried when he took that wedding ring off."

She sighed. "I've been waiting for this since she met Andrea. Those two meeting… it was always going to happen."

"Yah. They've been skirting along this line for a while now." He turned to her. "Hi. I'm Mike." He held out his hand.

"Lori," she responded, shaking his hand.

"If it's any consolation… they seem happy together."

"It's not." That admission wasn't any consolation at all. "But I've always been a little bit selfish." Shane briefly flashed in her mind, but she pushed that thought away.

"Me too," admitted Mike.

They knew each other's past. He had already been dead when she and Rick had been reunited, but they knew each other's story. She had heard his when Michonne had explained it to Carl, and he had heard once Andrea had opened up to Michonne about the group.

" _I fell for a guy named Shane who was in love with a married woman, who might or might not be pregnant with her husband's child_."

People had known of her before she'd even gotten here because people talked…. The question of if Judith was Rick's had spread all around Heaven, but it had been quickly put to rest one night when Rick was holding Judith.

" _I don't care what_ might _be the case_ ," he had whispered into the night, " _you're_ my _daughter, and I'll love you just the same_."

That had been only a few days after Judith's birth, and not too long before Michonne showed up.

It seemed like one day she was just there.

Lori tried to do what she could to stop it. She started appearing right around the time Michonne left Woodbury and came across Maggie and Glenn. The phone calls would no longer be enough.

He needed to _see_ her, before he met Michonne, otherwise her memory would be threatened.

Lori wasn't sure why she knew that. Deep down she guessed she just knew her husband. She'd been watching Michonne since she had saved Andrea, and Lori couldn't help but think about that fact that Michonne would be the kind of woman Rick would appreciate.

It had been such a random thought that she scoffed away the idea, until it hit her, later on that night, that if Michonne was with Andrea, at some point, Rick and Michonne might meet up.

It didn't seem likely, until it was obvious that they would. When Michonne had grabbed that baby food and headed towards the prison, Lori knew it would be inevitable.

But she could prolong it.

And then Michonne had showed up at the prison, and the world stopped. They all watched together the moment Rick and Michonne met, staring at each other through the linked fence: T-Dog, Dale, Amy, Sofia.

They all had known, just like she had known, just like Rick had known, even for a few seconds, before he'd blocked his emotions out.

Lori had actually thought there was hope at that moment.

He had forgotten her, even if only for a second.

She might have been able to forgive Rick's betrayal – after all, he'd forgiven hers – but then Carl went and told him that Michonne was one of them. That had been an even more devastating blow, even if Michonne had risked her life just for a picture of her so that Judith could know her mother.

Lori found it impossible to hate Michonne for much longer, though. Not when she'd stuck her knife through the Governor to stop him from killing Rick. Despite the fact that she missed Rick, she didn't want to see him yet. Carl and Judith _needed_ him, so he couldn't die.

Michonne had saved him, and for that, she'd be forever grateful.

She had stopped visiting him after that. She could have kept appearing, but Michonne had proven herself worthy, especially once she found them in that house and had decided to help Carl.

Rick had been right. Carl needed her.

So Lori watched from afar, trying to come to term with the fact that Rick was falling for her, even if he didn't see it. He would. One day he would.

It's not like Michonne knew either. She didn't realize it anymore than he did. And any chance of her figuring it out went out the window when Rick fell for Jessie.

Jessie, the woman he was _supposed_ to be with, as opposed to the woman he _should_ be with.

The outcry was immediate, watching Rick make a complete fool out of himself with and for Jessie. Hershel had called him an idiot, a man blinded by stupidity, and refused to say another word about it.

"He'll learn," Dale said. "He'll figure it out."

"By that time Michonne will have moved on, and who could blame her?" asked Andrea, also clearly frustrated.

And then Alexandria was attacked, and Jessie and her children were dead.

Lori had screamed when Carl had gotten shot, and again Michonne was there.

Michonne was always there.

It still didn't make tonight any easier. Lori had thought she had made peace with it, made peace with _them_ , but her stomach had twisted in knots as she watched Rick risk everything for that truck, filled with a crate of toothpaste.

She wanted Rick happy by now. Of course she did. But that selfish part of her was relieved to see that truck sink to the bottom of that lake.

And then he handed her a pack of mints, a pack that Lori had never even seen him grab, and that was really all it took.

Her stomach sunk as she watched them on that couch. Lori had waited until Michonne had stopped him – _she_ had stopped _him_ , not the other way around – but it was just to tell him to go upstairs. That's when she had left.

It was always going to happen. She had always _known_ that. It didn't make tonight any easier.

"You still love him?" Mike's voice revved her out of her thoughts.

"I never stopped," said Lori, glancing at Mike. "Despite what I did with Shane… despite the fact that we were having problems in our marriage… I did love him. He's a good man. He's a good father." She could feel herself getting emotional. "I didn't deserve him."

"No," Mike agreed. "Just like I didn't deserve her."

Lori had no response for that.

"Seems like they've moved on. They let us both go a while ago," Mike concluded. "Maybe it's time we do the same. For what it's worth I think Shane might really love you."

"Shane tried to kill my husband," Lori stated coldly. She knew the truth now. Being in Heaven did that for you. "He doesn't love anyone but himself."

Mike had nothing to say to that. "Well I suppose I'll leave you with your thoughts. See you around."

"Goodbye, Mike." She gave him a final nod and watched him walk away, and then she leaned against the rail, breathing the night in. Mike was right, she realized after a few moments. "Goodbye, Rick," she said into the night, and she made her way back downstairs.

She wouldn't return to the Viewing Room, unless Carl was involved. But as far as Rick, checking in on him, seeing his progress, seeing how he was doing… well, that had to stop now. It was no longer her place.

It was time to let him go.

* * *

A/N: This one-shot came to me while watching the show Underground. For those of you who watch you probably know that Noah played Mike and he's just so damn sexy I figured he deserved a one-shot of his own LOL.


	7. Finding Michonne

A/N: When leaving a prompt, if you actually have an account, can you all please login? I normally like to tell the person who left the prompt that it's been posted. THANKS! Love you all.

-thamockingjayandpeeta

* * *

 _Prompt—"_ _What about a Rick, Michonne and the Governor scene or moment?_ _" –ShunnieIsFine._

 _I loved this, but I struggled trying to find out how to make this happen…. Then it hit me: what if when Maggie asked where Michonne was, instead of saying they'd leave her, he went to find her? So that's what I did here._

 _Enjoy!_

 **FINDING MICHONNE**

 **Rated M for language and violence**

Michonne hurried behind the group, keeping a look out. Rick led them back to the space they'd found upon their arrival.

"Inside, quick," Rick said, and they all made their way into the building. Michonne made sure everyone was in before slamming the door without going in.

Those people were safe.

She had unfinished business.

Inside the room Daryl spoke. "Ain't no way out back here."

"Rick, how did you find us?" asked Maggie.

Without answering Maggie Rick kept looking around, glancing at Glenn. "How bad are you hurt?"

"I'll be all right," Glenn replied.

"Where's that woman?" asked Maggie, and Rick realized Michonne was gone.

"She was right behind us," Rick stated, and he headed towards the window to look out of it.

"Maybe she was spotted," said Daryl. "Want me to look for her?"

Rick's first reaction was to say no, but then he realized that she knew where the prison was…. If they asked her for information… hell Glenn and Maggie would never put the group in harm's way and he'd be a fool to not think they'd given up information. He could only imagine what she'd do.

She had no loyalty to them.

"Shit," Rick said. He turned to Daryl. "Get them to the car. If I'm not back in twenty minutes, leave without me."

"Rick—"

"Twenty minutes, Daryl." With that, Rick went back out.

…

Michonne snuck into the Governor's place, prepared to battle. It was dark, but she was careful. She looked around, taking in every single detail, wondering what she could use against him, if there was anything.

He would pay, she vowed to herself. He would pay for trying to take away her life after she'd made the conscious decision to live again. He'd regret ever coming after, and for coming between her and Andrea.

 _Andrea_ , scoffed Michonne. Should she even care about her? She'd made her decision, she'd made her choice, never mind the sacrifices she had made for her.

None of that seemed to matter to Andrea, so it shouldn't matter to Michonne.

With a sweeping look around she realized she didn't give a damn about anything. She grabbed her sword from her back, sat down in a chair, placed her sword on her lap, and stared at the door.

She would wait for him. It wouldn't matter how long it would take.

Eventually he would come home.

She'd have sat there all night if she had to, but a strange noise a few feet away got her attention. She paused, her body tense, as she listened for the noise again. It happened again: a thud of some sort.

She stood up and walked towards the sound. It was coming from behind a door.

Without a second thought Michonne kicked open the door, not sure what she'd find.

She knew exactly what the Governor was the minute she saw him, but to see fish tanks full of heads nearly sent Michonne over the edge. Shocked beyond reason Michonne slowly made her way to the tanks, almost too stunned to walk.

It was even worse than she thought, she realized.

He would pay, she vowed as she looked at those innocent victims. The Governor would pay for every single one of them.

 _Trophies_.

The same thud that had brought her to this room startled Michonne. She reached for her sword and noticed another door, this one made of chains. She slowly approached it, peered inside, couldn't see anything, and unlocked it.

Her heart dropped as she noticed the child.

Shit. The man had a _child_ held captive, its face covered like a damn hostage.

Michonne knelt down, placing her sword on the ground. "Oh my God," she whispered, approaching the young girl. She was probably frightened out of her mind. "It's okay," Michonne told the girl, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I'm not gonna hurt you." By now the girl was close enough for Michonne to grab. Careful not to frighten her, Michonne pulled the girl to her. "Come on. Come on. That's it."

Once she had hold of the girl Michonne realized that she was chained. Keeping her anger at bay Michonne felt around the girl's neck and unhooked the chain from the back, and knelt back down in front of her. She took off the hood and startled back.

The girl was a walker.

Despite her shock Michonne immediately grabbed for her sword. She turned her around – she couldn't do it from the front, not with a child – and was about to ram her sword into her when she heard a shout.

" _No_!" Michonne looked up to see the man of the hour, a gun pointed at her. Michonne took the girl and held her in front of her for protection. "Don't hurt her," said the Governor. Michonne glanced from the girl to the Governor. "Look. Hey." He held up his hands and put the gun in its holster and immediately started unbuckling it and placed it down. "It's me you want." He kept inching towards her, and Michonne stared at him, confused. "There's no need for her to suffer."

"She doesn't have _needs_ ," stated Michonne darkly.

"Please. Don't hurt my little girl." Understanding dawned upon Michonne then. "Please don't."

With her eyes locked on the Governor, Michonne took her sword and rammed it through the girl's mouth.

The cry from the Governor could probably be heard all throughout Woodbury.

He attacked her almost immediately, and the two of them wrestled around until he hit her with his fist. It stung, but she didn't let it break her concentration. Still, he was a man, and he was strong, so it wasn't long before she was on the floor and behind choked out. She grabbed the case for her sword and hit him hard enough to get him to loosen his grip.

The Governor sputtered and Michonne kicked him, kneeling down and attempting to strangle him with her sword case. He backed her against the wall, slamming his weight into her, until she let him loose. He turned around and started slamming her head against the wall.

She clawed at him and he grabbed her, throwing her head into one of the fish tanks. It was sheer strength that her pulling that fish tank over, and both her and the Governor fell back. He got up first and grabbed her.

"Come here," he said, and he started choking her, his grip tight. Michonne attempted to get him off of her, but to no avail. She noticed a piece of broken glass and reached for it, and stabbed him in the eye. He howled in pain, and Michonne would have finished the job, she _would_ have, if a voice hadn't stopped her.

"Michonne!" She kept her sword trained on the Governor but looked at Rick. "You come _now_ , or you're on your own." Michonne and Rick stared at each other for a few seconds, and then Rick turned and walked out. She turned back to the Governor and would have stabbed him except someone else entered.

Andrea.

She had a gun pointed at Michonne, so Michonne switched gears and pointed her katana at Andrea. The two women stared at each other in silence for a long while. She could kill Andrea. She _could_. And then she'd end the Governor's life.

But she wouldn't.

She wouldn't and she couldn't, so she left.

She'd get her chance with the Governor another time.

She made her way outside and under the fence, where she found Rick and the others.

He glared at her, his gun on her. He took her sword and lowered his gun. "Get what you came for?" he asked her, nearly snarling.

"Where are the rest of your people?" asked Michonne.

"They got Oscar," Glenn stated.

"Daryl is missing. You didn't see him?" inquired Maggie.

Michonne shook her head and was about to respond when Rick spoke.

"If anything happens to him—"

"I bought you here to save them," Michonne reminded Rick.

He looked at her. "Thanks for the help."

She recognized the dismissal in his tone, and had he been anyone else, she'd have listened. She'd have gone, because no one else would have been worth the trouble.

For some reason, he was.

"You'll need help to get them back to the prison or to go back in there for Daryl. Either way, you need me."

He didn't. If there was anyone he didn't _need_ , it was her.

Yet he stared at her, stared at her for a long time, looking for something, _anything_ , and finding nothing.

"We're gonna get Glenn back to the car," he said. "You're gonna stay with him. You are to _protect_ him. The rest of us will go back to try and find Daryl."

"That's stupid," Michonne said.

"It's the only way you get to stay."

"I mean I can get Glenn back to the car. All of us going is wasting time."

"No, you going after the Governor was _wasting time_."

"She's right," Glenn said. "Daryl is in there. You guys should go now. Because if they're doing to him what they did to us…."

Rick and Glenn stared at each other for several moments, then he turned back to Michonne.

It'd be easier to send her along her way, he knew, but he couldn't. He didn't know circumstances kept them together, but he handed her katana back to her.

"You wait for us," said Rick.

Michonne grabbed her sword. "You've got the keys, Rick. I'm not going anywhere."

"Good. Because I already looked for you once. I won't go findin' you again."

She nodded and he turned away from her.

Together Michonne and Glenn made their way towards the car.


	8. Happy to be Wrong

A/N: PREPARE FOR A RANT OF LAST NIGHT'S EPISODE OF TWD. IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT, SKIP DOWN TO THE ITALICIZED PART, AS THIS A/N WILL BE A SPOILER. THE STORY HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT, SO YOU'RE FINE TO READ. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

WHAT THE FUCKING FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCK **FUCK**. As someone who reads spoilers I KNEW about the cliffhanger and I'm STILL pissed AF! I just think it was a great disservice/injustice to whoever was Lucille'd. Instead of spending all this time grieving over them, people are pissed. And when season 7 starts, we'll be over it. So we MIGHT get a little flashback to the scene and what happened, but then it'll be over, and we'll be on to the next thing. It's SO FUCKING ANNOYING. Gimple, Kirkman, and AMC are ALL trolls, and I'm even pissed at Andy and Lauren and Norman and Melissa for all that BULLSHIT "I was late to set, I didn't wanna show up to work, I fell into a black hole" BULLSHIT we had to suffer through… AND NO ONE EVEN DIES. SO I'm annoyed af as you can probably tell. I didn't think the cliffhanger would piss me off so badly. I knew it was coming, and I'm ready to riot.

I'm posting THIS story to get me through, because I am beyond pissed, and needed something sweet to calm my nerves. Grrrrrr.

* * *

 _I was walking to get my laundry and this one-shot hit me. Don't ask me why LOL. This takes place during "A New Beginning." NOT my one-shot, but the Comic timeframe after All Out War. Doesn't really contain spoilers because it's speculation._

 _Don't forget to leave your prompts/suggestions in a Review! The support's been AMAZING._

 **HAPPY TO BE WRONG**

 **Rated T**

Rick shifted in bed and stretched out his arm, expecting to feel Michonne. Instead he felt nothing – her side of the bed was not only empty, but cool, letting him know that she'd been gone for a while now. He'd suspected as much.

That would explain why he was so cold.

He was always colder when she wasn't next to him.

Rick slipped out of bed and grabbed his boxers, slipping them back on. He rummaged around for his pants – they always ended up in the strangest place after nights like last night – and then he grabbed his shirt and put it over his head.

He checked in on Judith. She was still sleeping peacefully, as was Carl. It made sense. It was still pretty damn early.

Rick made his way downstairs, expecting to see Michonne on the couch, the fire lit, a book in her hand, but when he reached the bottom of the stairs he quickly noticed the living room was empty.

He could smell hot chocolate, and he saw a pot on the stove. He also noticed that her coat and boots were missing. He peaked out the window and saw Michonne sitting outside on the steps, her legs outstretched.

It was snowing lightly.

The desire to stay warm didn't outweigh his desire to check on her, so he quickly went back upstairs to add on more layers – she might be out there all morning, knowing her. Then he heated up some more hot chocolate, pouring two mugs, and made his way outside after bundling up.

At the sound of the door opening Michonne turned around, her dark eyes twinkling. "I wondered how long it'd be before you found me."

"You know I can't sleep that long without you next to me," responded Rick, handing her one of the mugs of hot chocolate. She smiled gratefully at him, immediately bringing the warm liquid to her lips.

She moved her legs so that she was now facing the street and her legs were resting on the steps. Rick accepted her invitation to sit down, trying his hardest to ignore the cold.

He didn't understand how she did it.

"It's beautiful out here," she stated, almost as if she were reading his mind.

She probably was. If anyone could, if anyone had earned that right, it was her.

"Peaceful," continued Michonne, taking another sip of her drink.

"How long you been out here?" asked Rick, trying to sound casual.

She sent him a look, a small smile on her face, letting him know that he wasn't as slick as he thought he was. He never was with her. "Not that long. I was reading when I looked out the window and saw that it was snowing, so I came out here." Rick nodded. "The neighborhood's quiet. No one's up yet, aside from Sasha, who's on watch. I brought her some hot chocolate earlier and kept her company. I thought I'd go back inside but instead I just sat down."

Rick glanced at her. "You miss taking watch?"

Michonne sighed. "I miss a lot of things. Who knew being the leader of Alexandria was so much work? Deanna didn't tell me nearly as much as she should have."

Rick chuckled. "You sure it's the leadership that's tirin' you out?"

"Real funny," laughed Michonne. She looked at him. "You don't have to stay out here. I know you're not a huge fan of the snow."

"I wanted to spend time with you, before Carl and Judith, or the town, for that matter, woke up. Even if I have to sit in the snow." Michonne looked away. "I never experienced snow before we got here. Had you?"

Michonne kept staring straight ahead, taking a few sips of her hot chocolate before answering. When she spoke her voice was soft, and reminiscent. "For our one-year anniversary, Mike flew us out to a cabin in Colorado. It was stunning. I learned how to ski, I learned how to snowboard…. I had a blast. I _loved_ the snow, I realized. Mike promised we'd go back, but then I got pregnant with Andre."

Rick looked ahead, taking a sip of his own drink and listened to Michonne talk.

"We decided that we didn't want to bring Andre to the snow, at least not while he was so young, so our vacations started to consist of beaches and sand." She smiled fondly, a faraway look in her eyes. "I remember during our last vacation – we had gone to Miami Beach – and I was watching Andre and Mike play in the water. Andre _loved_ the water. He was a fish." She laughed at the memory. "He got that from me. Mike didn't learn how to swim until we had Andre, and I'm sure you remember what it's like, becoming a first time parent. Hell, we took CPR classes, just in case…."

Her voice trailed off and she stayed silent for a while. She did that sometimes, now more than ever, where she would just lose her train of thought, and she might not ever get it back.

"I remember watching them try and catch waves, and thinking nothing would ever be more perfect than that moment."

Rick kept silent, wondering where she was going with that story, or if it had even really had a purpose. Maybe she was just thinking of Andre.

She looked at him then, and he felt his heart start to speed up as he met the gaze in her eyes. "I've never been happier to be wrong."

Rick stared at her for several moments, and then leaned in and kissed her. She seemed ready, eager, her lips firm and familiar and warm and honest and _raw_.

When she pulled away she moved down a couple of steps so that she could sit in between his legs. As was his custom whenever she did this, Rick slid his arms around his wife's baby bump and rested his chin on the top of her head, also happy that she'd been wrong.

* * *

A/N: This is probably one of my favorite one-shots I've ever written—and I've written a lot of them LOL.


	9. Choosing Home

A/N: I want to remind everyone that these one-shots are not related to each other, unless otherwise stated, so all these one-shots won't always add up. They are truly random. So in one story I might have Michonne recognizing her feelings for Rick and in another one, I might not. Please just take each one-shot for what it is: individual mini stories that hardly have anything to do with each other. Same characters, same world (unless it's an A/U), different time periods. I can write two stories during the same timeframe with the same subject matter and have two very different outcomes. Just an FYI.

* * *

 _SO, why the note up above? Because I have a similar one-shot to this one, "Moving on and Staying Put," but that one focused on Rick's desire to have Michonne stay. I really wanted one with Carl's desire for Michonne to live with them. Keep in mind this is when they first got to Alexandria, so everyone's still doubling up. Enjoy!_

 **CHOOSING HOME**

 **Rated K**

Rick kept his opinions to himself. It was obvious he was outnumbered and outvoted, and there was nothing he could do about that. He had made it clear that he wasn't in charge anymore. His group had made a decision, and even though he still didn't agree with it, he was here, and so were they.

They were together.

Only… they wouldn't be together for that much longer.

He didn't think it was a mistake. He just thought it was too soon. They hadn't been here that long and everyone seemed ready to settle in like they'd just been approved for a loan to buy a new house.

He wasn't sure they belonged here, that they would ever belong here, yet his team seemed to be ready, even if he wasn't.

"So who's goin' where?" asked Daryl.

"Me, Glenn, and Sasha will move a few houses down," Maggie stated.

"And me, Rosita and Eugene will be at the end of the block," stated Abe.

"I think I'll move in with Olivia," Carol said. "She offered." She turned to Rick. "You should obviously stay here, you're close to the fence. If we're ever under attack. That is, after all, why we're here. For their protection…." She let her voice trail off and Rick nodded in agreement.

At least one of them was still thinking.

"What about the rest of you?" asked Rick.

"They have a space in their church that'll work for me," Father Gabriel said. "Deanna said she wants me to keep up my preaching duties, so…."

"Yah, well, I'm stayin' with Rick, Carl, and Little Ass-Kicker," Daryl stated.

"Okay, seriously," said Michonne, glancing at Daryl. "The least you could do is call her that behind her back. She's _right_ _here_."

"Lecture me when she's old enough to talk," Daryl argued.

"You're impossible," grinned Michonne.

"What about you, Michonne?" Carl's voice brought them all back to the matter at hand. The room, surprisingly enough, had gone unnaturally quiet as all attention was suddenly placed on Michonne.

Michonne seemed to only have eyes for Carl, though. "Someone once said I was one of them. So I'm staying." There was more than enough room. There was a bedroom downstairs that Daryl was most likely going to stay in, and there were four other bedrooms upstairs.

There was room.

A spirit of unease lifted from the group – or maybe just him.

"You are?" The relief in Carl's voice was enough to make her smile.

"Of course I am. Who else is going to beat you in thumb wrestling all night?" Carl smiled, perhaps, like her, remembering some of their nights at the prison. "And who else is going to convince you of the benefits of soy milk?"

"There are no benefits to soy milk," Rick stated, and Michonne's twinkling brown eyes met his.

"I beg to differ."

"You can beg to differ all you want. It doesn't change anything."

The two of them stared at each other for a few moments, and the rest of the group went back to talking to each other. Daryl walked up to Rick, his back facing Michonne.

"Nice to see you jokin' around again," commented Daryl. Rick pretended not to know what Daryl was talking about. "You can relax now. She's stayin'."

Rick walked away with Daryl without saying anything, but his best friend was right.

He _could_ relax.

She was staying here.

She was staying home.


	10. Putting Her At Ease

A/N: Yall! Just wanted to take a second to thank all of you for the love. It honestly means so much to me that you guys like the one-shots. Hopefully I'll get us through these LONG summer months as we try and make it to October for that season 7 premiere. PLEASE understand that I still hate Gimple with every passionate part of my entire being for the ATROCITY that was that cliffhanger, but you guys say my stories are helping. I'd love to continue this on, long as I keep getting prompts. :)

* * *

 _WARNING: This one-shot will contain SMUT and spoilers for those of you who don't read the comics. Read at your own risk._

 _For SOME reason I thought of the future where everyone's living at the Hilltop, and I thought about Richonne's first night. =]_

 **PUTTING HER AT EASE**

 **Rated M for smut and language**

Michonne tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable for what felt like the millionth time. She switched from her stomach to her back, tried to curl up next to Rick, and then decided to try on her side.

It was then that Rick slid his arm around her waist, moving closer and pressing his face into her back. "What's wrong?" he asked softly.

Michonne sighed. "I can't sleep."

"Really? I couldn't tell." He pulled her towards him and she turned again, facing him. "Talk to me."

She could just make out his face with the natural moonlight peaking in through the curtain. "I always have trouble falling asleep in new places," she admitted quietly.

It was their first night at the Hilltop. Rick's suggestion to have Alexandria and the Kingdom move to the Hilltop in order for all the fighters to be in one place had been a good idea at the time, but Michonne had forgotten about her little problem.

"I didn't know that," said Rick, playing with one of her 'locks.

"It took me a week to get used to Alexandria. Even longer than that to get used to the prison."

Rick frowned into the night. "Why?"

"Well, I was worried about the Governor attacking any and every minute. And even though it didn't take long to know that you weren't bad people, that didn't mean that you were _good_ people, and it took me a while to know if I could trust you. You had taken my sword, you had a key to my cell, and I didn't know if I would be attacked... Anything could have happened. I had to be on alert."

Rick paused for a couple seconds, and then slid his hands up to her face. "Well you can trust me now." His voice was husky and then his lips met hers. Michonne felt her heart start to pound, and against her will, let out a low moan.

That seemed to be all the invitation Rick needed.

He deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue into her mouth, and Michonne granted him access before she could think better of it. After several moments Rick pulled away.

"I can help you sleep," Rick told her, and then he was on top of her, his lips on her neck.

"No," whispered Michonne, not at all convincingly.

He continued kissing her neck, his hands sliding underneath her shirt and gripping her breasts. "Why not?" he mumbled.

"It doesn't feel right," admitted Michonne in a hushed whisper.

Rick licked Michonne's jawline. "This is our home now," he told her. "At least for the time bein'." He planted kisses along her collarbone, exposing her skin. "Care to explain to me how I'm supposed to resist you until you think it _feels right_?"

"What if people hear us?" She could feel her heart beat threatening to rise out of her chest.

"Then they'll be jealous." He wrapped his lips around her ear and Michonne arched her back.

He was _cheating_.

"Rick, I'm serious." She didn't sound serious. She sounded desperate, her voice was breathy, and her hands finally scratched that itch and started touching him. She could feel him through his pants. He was ready for her, and she was aching for him.

"Maybe we should practice on you being quieter," he suggested. He stopped kissing her and sat up, grabbing her shirt and pulling it over her head. He threw it behind him and his head immediately started kissing her stomach. "We can play a game," whispered Rick wickedly. "How long can Michonne stay quiet?"

Michonne's laugh quickly turned to a gasp when his lips secured around her nipple.

"Now that wasn't very quiet."

"Fuck you," was Michonne's response, and that earned a grin from Rick.

"Is that a challenge?"

She glared at him. "You're doing a lot of talking for someone who still has all his clothes on."

He nodded, taking that as his cue, and he removed his shirt and pants while she took off her bottoms. She was finished before him – her shirt had already been off – so he was still in the process of taking off his pants when she pulled him down, her mouth engulfing hers.

"Eager much?"

"Still all that talking," Michonne responded.

He pushed into her, no warning, no nothing, and she threw her head back, another loud gasp echoing in the room.

"Still not all that quiet."

She had a response in mind, but she currently couldn't _think_ , so all she was able to do was groan out his name. He immediately sped up, her body responding, her hips meeting his, desperately, quickly, so that suddenly she was the one deciding on the pace.

Sex was always a battle of wills between them – at least since that first time, when it had been slow and soft and sweet. After that, though, after they'd explored each other's bodies and learned every inch of each other, they always fought for domination.

It was such a contrast to their actual relationship, where they could make the same decisions without even opening their mouths.

On the other hand, it was just as good, because they knew each other's likes and dislikes. He seemed to know what it is she needed, exactly when she needed it, without her having to speak a word, and she could do the same for him.

There were times when she thought she wanted it rough, wanted it hard, but he'd force her to slow down, and it'd end up being exactly what she needed and wanted.

Against her will she choked out her first orgasm, and Rick let out a throaty moan. His lips found hers, which was a good thing, because she had been on the verge on yelling out a string of yesses that would surely alert every Savior to their exact location.

She pushed Rick away, breathing heavily, and sat up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He pulled her closer to him, forcing her in deeper, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his neck. She moaned as he sunk his teeth into her shoulder.

She could feel that bubble in the pit of her stomach, threatening to burst again. She bit her lip as the pleasure started to take over. Her body started acting on its own accord – she lost all control, and it was the only time she was okay with it.

Rick took her there. Rick _always_ took her there.

"Now," grunted Rick. " _Now_."

She came, violently, and Rick did the same, simultaneously.

They held on to each other, both of them breathing hard, too wrapped up in pleasure to move, so he stayed inside of her until he could catch his breath.

His lips were on her throat, and traveled down to the valley of her breasts.

"Think you can sleep now?" Rick asked.

"You think you're all that," said Michonne, her body languid. He smiled and slowly pulled out of her, and then pulled her to him, burying his face in her hair. He wrapped her arms around her, planting another kiss on her shoulder. "Thank you, for putting me at ease."

"Yah, well, that's what I'm here for," Rick told her.

She slipped her fingers into his. "You're here for a lot more than that."

Rick squeezed her hand and she drifted off to sleep the best way possible: with Rick by her side, and holding her close.

In other words, at ease.


	11. Stone Cold

A/N: OMG I JUST FINISHED A HP/TWD crossover one-shot! I'M OBSESSED WITH IT! It's kind of an introduction piece, so you'll definitely see some more one-shots from that Universe. I'm working on part II now. I hope y'all like it! For now, enjoy this, and I'll see you all on Monday!

* * *

 _Wrote this from the POV that Michonne realized her feelings for Rick before they ever even got to Alexandria. I always kind of wanted to explore how she felt about Ressie. Heard this song and immediately thought of Richonne for some reason._

 _Not a song-fic persay (I HATE those, PLEASE don't prompt them LOL), just a strong inspiration. 'Stone Cold' by the amazing woman that is Demi Lovato._

 _Stone cold, stone cold_

 _You see me standing, but I'm dying on the floor_

 _Stone cold, stone cold_

 _Maybe if I don't cry, I don't feel anymore_

 _Stone cold, baby_

 _God knows I tried to feel_

 _Happy for you_

 _Know that I am, even if I_

 _Can't understand, I'll take the pain_

 _Give me the truth, me and my heart_

 _We'll make it through_

 _If happy is her, then I'm happy for you_

 **STONE COLD**

 **Rated T**

"Rick." Michonne tried her hardest to keep her voice level. She didn't want to come across as judgmental. She'd never had to judge him before. Normally they were so in tune with each other it was like they were the same person.

Now? Not so much. Not anymore.

Rick startled, clearly not expecting Michonne to be up this late, and waiting for him in the dark on the couch. "Yah?"

Michonne stood up so that she was facing him, the moonlight highlighting their faces. "What are you doing?"

"Jus' takin' a late night stroll," responded Rick.

Michonne sighed. "You know that's not what I'm talking about." He blinked at her. Okay. Maybe he didn't know what she was talking about. "I mean you and Jessie."

He stiffened slightly. "What about her?" Rick's voice was already slightly defensive, which in turn, made her back go up.

"Rick, she's married."

He inhaled sharply and blew out a low breath. "I know that."

"So, I ask again… what are you doing?"

Rick paused for the longest time yet. "I don't know. There's just… something about her. Something familiar, something tangible."

Michonne remained silent. She had suspected as much. Jessie reminded him of life before the Turn. She probably reminded him of home.

Of Lori.

She couldn't compete with that. She couldn't compete with a ghost, or with memories, or with a man's idea of happily ever after in a world that resembled hell.

It broke her, how badly she wanted to compete.

But she couldn't win. Oh no. Not her. Being with her would make this life real. It would be unfamiliar territory. It would be taking an unnecessary risk.

He was fine with friendship, and she… well she had been fine with friendship up until they'd gotten settled into these walls. With a home came thoughts. You can't think on the road. You only survive. Once you get some stability, some comfort, once you get _content_ your mind can start to wonder.

It was her fault. She knew it was. She had no business falling for him.

He was her best friend.

So she would be happy for him, even if he was making a complete fool of himself.

"Okay, Rick," Michonne finally said. "Just… don't do anything crazy."

She gave him a soft smile and made her way upstairs to her own room.

She wouldn't cry. Not over _this_. She didn't understand it, but she would accept it and be happy for him. That's all she wanted. Not just for Rick, but for all of them. Her group deserved happiness.

She'd make it through this. The truth could be ugly, but she'd survived worse.

If happy was Jessie, then she'd be happy for Rick.


	12. Rick's Fear

_Because you just CAN'T convince me that Rick doesn't know about Andre…. I remember seeing on social media that if Rick didn't know about Andre, then Rick and Michonne weren't in love, they were just fucking. I think agree with whoever said that. SO consider this a missing scene during "Claimed" when Michonne finally told Rick about Andre, right after Rick dug to hide the guns and right before they're climbing the fence to Terminus._

 **RICK'S FEAR**

 **Rated T**

Rick turned away from the scene before him and let Carl and Michonne have their moment. He had no idea what she was saying to Carl, but he trusted her. He honestly had no choice in the matter.

He headed a few feet away and started digging. Daryl came and started helping without asking. Pretty soon they had a hole big enough. He wiped his brow, thankful that the assignment had provided a temporary distraction from the problem at hand.

He shook it off and bent down and opened up the bag of guns. He switched out his normal gun for a different one, glancing up just in time to see the questioning look on Daryl's face. He dropped the bag into the hole and looked up at Daryl.

"Just in case," Rick said, and he started covering the bag with the dirt, and Daryl grunted. He understood: just in case Terminus ended up not being what they thought.

He heard Michonne and Carl approaching just as he finished and turned to face them. "I think we should walk around the perimeter a couple of times, see what we see."

"Good idea," said Michonne.

"Maybe we should split up," Daryl suggested. "Carl and I can go that way," her jerked his head to left, "and you and Michonne can go the other way. We can meet back up."

"No. We need to stick together." Rick's voice was firm. He wasn't too keen on letting his son out of his sight after what had just happened.

"All right. Daryl and Carl can follow a few feet behind us," stated Michonne.

Rick looked between Carl, Daryl, and Michonne. "All right then. Let's go." Rick turned on his heels and Michonne fell into step beside him. They stayed hidden behind the dress, keeping their eyes on the building through the fence.

"Rick," said Michonne softly.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he said.

Michonne paused. "About what?"

"The fact that my son hates me."

"Carl doesn't hate you," sighed Michonne.

"Fine, is afraid of me then."

"He just doesn't understand yet. But he will one day, and he gets to have one day because of you." Michonne paused. "I'd give anything to have had someone who'd go to any lengths to protect their own. Carl is lucky to have you." She paused for another moment. "Unlike me."

She expected a million questions. Instead she got a soft and simple, "I know." She looked at him sharply. "Of course I know."

"How?" she breathed after a long pause.

"When you went on the run with me and Carl for the first time… and he said he wanted to get a crib… you mentioned the box and it being heavy. Only a parent would know that. As far as if your child had…." He was decent enough to not say the word. "I think deep down I always knew. I'd see you with Carl and wonder… but it wasn't my place to ask. At least I didn't think it was. And then when you found us… and you asked where Judith was… I recognized the same grief in you that I felt. You were someone who understood about the pain Carl and I were going through." Michonne distracted herself by looking at Terminus. "What was his or her name?" The question was gentle. He wasn't probing, and soft enough for her to pretend like she hadn't heard it if she didn't want to answer.

"Andre," responded Michonne. "He was three before the world went to shit. His father…." Michonne's voice trailed and then she looked at Rick. "His father wasn't like you. He didn't do anything and everything to ensure that his seed survived this world. He was weak. And I didn't see it until it was too late." She felt the tears but pushed them back. She'd cried enough for the time being. "I did everything I could for him, and it still wasn't enough. I have to live with that."

"You don't," Rick stated. He stopped and turned back to Daryl and Carl, motioning for them to stop. They did. "You have us now. I've seen you with Carl. Your natural instincts are more than enough. I don't know the circumstances, but I can imagine you were doing what you were supposed to."

"That doesn't stop the guilt."

Rick stared at her. "No, it doesn't. I was being choked to death by the Governor and I still hate myself for what happened to Judith." She saw the emotions swirling around in his eyes, and then watched with fascination as he reeled those same emotions back in. "Thank you, for tellin' me. I know it wasn't easy. I guess this is what you told Carl?"

Michonne nodded, once. "Hopefully it'll show him the alternative. He could be like Andre. He isn't. And he won't be. Not on your watch, nor on mine."

He felt the fear in his stomach start to loosen.

And suddenly the admission that she was done taking breaks came back to mind. He gave her a nod and together they started circling Terminus again.

* * *

A/N: At the end of the day, Rick has instincts… so even on the off chance that Michonne hasn't told him… he knows. A part of him knows. There've been too many clues for him not to. Not just clues for the audience's sake, but clues that Rick has to have picked up on.


	13. Til Death Do Us Part

_One-shot of Rick's decision to take off his wedding ring, and who might have influenced that. I also wanted to address the fact that Rick's wedding ring is off but Michonne is still wearing that damn necklace. There HAS to be a reason for that, right? RIGHT?_

 **TILL DEATH DO US PART**

 **Rated T**

Rick stepped out the shower and immediately grabbed his towel and started drying his body off. He towel-dried his hair and then tied the towel around his waist. He walked outside and headed towards his dresser and started searching for a white tee shirt. He put it on and then grabbed a pair of jeans, slipping them on after tossing his towel onto the bed.

He turned back to his dresser and immediately grabbed his gun holster. He would need to add another hole soon, or they would need to get some food.

He hadn't been this small in a while.

Next he grabbed his watch from atop the dresser, snapping it onto his wrist, and made his way to the bedroom door, swinging it open. He was halfway down the hall when he realized he'd forgotten something.

He doubled back to his room and walked back up to his dresser and grabbed his wedding ring. He held it, just staring at it for several moments, lost in his thoughts.

He'd been thinking about it a lot.

Funnily enough it didn't make him think about Lori. Not technically. But it made him think about marriage, and what it meant to him, and if he still needed to wear it. Lori had almost been gone for a year now. Maybe it was time. It just felt like it was easy to keep it off. He leaned against his dresser and twirled it in his fingers, trying to get his thoughts together.

"Hey." The voice startled him. He was rarely caught off guard, but he'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even hear her. He stood up and looked at Michonne, who was standing in his doorway in her bathrobe. It would have caught him off guard, except he was used to it by now. "You all right?" Her question was calm, but her gaze pierced him.

"What makes you still wear it?" asked Rick, looking back at his ring. When he looked back up at her she was staring at him quizzically. "After everything that's happened, after all the time has passed, why do you choose to still wear your necklace?"

Michonne sighed, her fingers gripping her necklace with the cursive _M_ on it. She stepped into his bedroom. "The M doesn't stand for Mike," she clarified softly. "Nor does it stand for Michonne." She paused for a few seconds. "It was my first Mother's Day gift. It stands for Mom."

Rick turned to face her. "I'm sorry. I… I didn't—"

"I know," said Michonne quietly, still fingering the necklace. "It's the only piece of Andre I have left." She stared at Rick, and then glanced down to his wedding ring. "I have nothing left of Mike. I let him go a long time ago."

"How?"

Michonne took a deep breath. "I made a decision to have another family. I knew in order to give them my all, I couldn't keep holding on to the past. I said my goodbyes the minute I decided to follow two pairs of footprints from a deserted store to a quaint little house with a can of pudding in front of it." Rick gave a half laugh and turned to his ring again. "You thinking it's time to let Lori go?"

"I've thought about it before… when we first got to Alexandria."

"You mean when you were with Jessie," corrected Michonne.

"I wasn't technically ever _with_ her…." Michonne just looked at him. "God I made a mess of things."

Michonne smiled softly. "So why didn't you take it off then?"

"It didn't feel right. Not yet."

"Does it feel right now?"

"I think it jus' feels different. I don't think I need it anymore."

She finally made her way next to him. "Taking off the ring doesn't mean you won't remember Lori. Carl says every time Judith smiles he sees her. She'll always be with you, Rick. Taking your ring off just means that you acknowledge that you're ready to move on. There's nothing wrong with that. That's why we're here. That's the whole point of Alexandria."

"I thought I was staring to understand that with Jessie."

"Jessie reminded you of your life before." The statement was simple, but spoken firmly, and the words rang true as soon as he heard them. "Not to mention Carol and Daryl were in your head half the time. It didn't feel right then because you weren't really _here_. You had no trouble letting her in, but you weren't ready to let anyone else in yet, including her two sons."

"Yah," nodded Rick. She was right.

"No one will ever be able to take Lori's place. No one will ever _be_ Lori. Not to you, or to Carl. It's okay if you've decided you're ready to move on, and no one can or will fault for that."

She gently took the ring from his fingers and placed it on top of the dresser. He let her.

"If you ever change your mind, your ring will always be right here." He stared at her, nodding softly. "Now that we've tackled that, let's handle something of _real_ importance. Can I borrow some toothpaste?"

"Again? This is the third time this week." Michonne just smiled. "Yah, you know where it is."

She walked towards the bathroom to grab the toothpaste and Rick took one last look at his ring.

He was okay without it. Lori was no longer here. She was a part of another life, another time, another place.

He'd stayed true to his vows, and a part of him would always love Lori. But he'd earned the right to move on. He wasn't sure why he felt it was time now, but it was.

He'd done his part, and death had done the rest.

Without looking back, he left to start the day's work.

* * *

A/N: I loved, loved, LOVED this. Second favorite, after "Happy to be Wrong."


	14. A New Beginning

A/N: Reviews are working again apparently, so go back to leaving prompts/reviews!

* * *

 _WARNING: THIS PROMPT AND ITS ONE-SHOT CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DON'T READ THE COMICS. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK._

 _Prompt— "How about one where Negan has been neutralized and life is pretty good. They have crops and livestock so they don't have to do many runs. It's about two years from now. Judith calls Michonne Mama and they are very close. Michonne feels bad that Judith doesn't have anyone around her own age. Rick's been wanting to talk to Michonne about adding to their family for some time and uses this as a lead in to ask her about them having a baby (lets assume he already knows about Andre). She is over the moon and agrees to start trying. Bonus: flash forward to Michonne pregnant and Judith talking to her sibling and touching her Mama's belly. Judith then asks where they got the baby from and how they put it in her belly. Rick and Michonne make up some outlandish story._ _" –Guest_

 _Changed the circumstances up a little bit, made it more comic-book story line. The end of this prompt (or the bonus) I'll make a separate one-shot._

 _The opening is how I picture the TV SHOW SHOULD start off the two-year time jump from the Comics. Though I've tried to keep it as close to the prompt as possible, I've changed the circumstances of why they decide to have a baby._

 _Also, the title is taken from Kirkman._

 **A NEW BEGINNING**

 **Rated M for smut**

Michonne felt the sunlight streaming across her face and sighed softly. She slid her left hand up Rick's stomach and towards his chest, lightly gripping his own left hand, focusing on the gold wedding band on his hand. She glanced up to Rick's nightstand and looked at the wedding photo of them on their wedding day, a little over a year ago.

She gently caressed her lips to his, and he immediately responded. The man could sleep through a walker attack sometimes, but let her kiss him and he was wide awake, locked and loaded, and ready.

He gripped her hips and she shifted.

"I didn't mean to get you started," Michonne said softly. She slid out of bed before he could have his way with her – and he could, have his way with her, anytime, any place, if he asked, but she had a lot to do this morning and didn't have a lot of time to let him distract her.

"Stay," he whispered, his voice still thick with sleep.

Michonne smiled softly and gently kissed his neck, sliding back on top of him. His hands slithered down her back, gripping her ass, and she felt him harden against her. He cursed when she gently bit his ear, and then flipped their positions so that he was on top of her.

Sometimes there was foreplay, and other times he needed and wanted her, right then and there.

The feeling was mutual.

He wrapped his arms around her body, his hands palming her back, and slid into her with ferocity. His strokes were deep and shallow and literally took her breath away; she found herself gasping, breathing hard, and trying to call out his name all that same time.

Michonne arched her back, her hips responding. She wrapped her legs around him and moaned at the deeper penetration. She whispered out his name and he did the same, his voice husky, deep, and sensual.

It'd never get old, she decided. Sex before normally had to be rushed, and they had to get it in when then could, but after the war… after they'd taken care of Negan and the Saviors and rebuilt and expanded Alexandria… after they had recovered from their losses and they had settled down again, this had become routine. This had become every day life, but no matter how many times she did this with him in the past two years, it was always a new and different experience.

Michonne's body bucked and she unraveled, yet she kept thrusting, desperate for more, always for more. She needed more, she craved it, so he pounded into her as if he were trying to fill an empty void.

"Rick," she whimpered, and he grunted out a response, speeding up. He was close, and so was she, and he had the uncanny ability to finish them off together.

His body knew hers, and she knew his.

The two of them cried out together when their bodies released, Michonne's nails digging into Rick's back. There'd be scratches there, she knew. Sometimes the occasion called for it.

It took Michonne several moments to catch her breath, so she lay there, underneath him, as he attempted to do the same. She knew he could feel her heartbeat the same way she could feel his.

When he finally moved off of her she welcomed the relief of finally being able to breathe properly.

"What in the hell was that?" gasped Michonne.

"Didn't hear you complainin' a few moments ago," Rick responded with a smile.

"I'm definitely not complaining," said Michonne, turning over so that she was curled up next to him. Rick ran his fingers through her 'locks. "What's wrong?" He didn't immediately answer, so Michonne met his eyes. "Rick?"

"Carl wanted to talk to me last night," Rick finally said.

Michonne sat up. "Okay…?"

"He… wants to move to the Hilltop to learn how to make weapons. He wants to become a blacksmith."

Michonne sighed, understanding. "Your boy's growing up, Rick."

" _Our_ boy," he corrected. Michonne smiled gently, and then frowned again at the troubled look in Rick's eyes. "What is it?"

"I don't want him to go."

"Rick, we can't stop Carl from growing up. We can't. Think of it like us sending him off to college."

"It's not the same. The world was dangerous before, but it's even worse now…. It's been a nice two years, but there's no way this is gonna last."

Michonne nodded. She knew he was right. Still, there was more here. "What else is it? It's not just Carl wanting to leave, which, by the way, is a natural thing for a child to want to do." She cupped his cheek. "You know he'll be safe at the Hilltop. Maggie's there. So's Jesus. They would never let anything happen to him. You know that."

Rick let a hard sigh and shook his head. "At least we still have Judith, but she'll be three before we know it. I jus don't know where the hell the time's gone, is all."

"Is it?" Rick stared at her. "Is that really all?" Rick sat up, and she could tell he was debating with himself about something. It wasn't like him to not talk to her or confide in her. "Talk to me."

"Would you ever consider it? Havin' another baby?"

Michonne took special care to not stiffen, or look away. She kept her eyes glued to Rick's. "Are you experiencing Empty-Nest Syndrome? Judith is still very much a baby."

"Not really. She's walkin' now, and talkin'. And she honestly can't be the only baby in this world. People have to start reproducing." He stared at her. "Why can't it start with us?"

Michonne finally looked away, thinking of Andre, and the way she felt when Judith had first called her 'Mommy.'

"You've never even thought about?" Rick's question brought her back to the present.

"Yah, I've thought about it. Every now and then." Rick seemed surprised. "I don't think I'm ready right now. Not _right_ now. But I want to, with you. I do." Just in saying it Michonne felt as if a weight had been lifted off of her shoulder.

Rick's eyes fluttered closed in relief, and he let out a soft exhale. "Okay," he said. "Okay. But not now?"

Michonne smiled. "Not _right_ now," said Michonne. "Soon, though. The future seems brighter than ever, and I'm open to a new beginning. But not right this second." Rick nodded, accepting that answer. " _But_ … we can always… practice." His eyes immediately darkened and Michonne laughed, sliding out of bed and heading towards the shower.

Rick hopped out of bed and followed. After all, practice makes perfect.


	15. The Governor's Ball

_Just an A/U story on how Richonne might have met, in another place, at another time. You'll see some familiar faces, and not all characters are how they are in the comics : )_

 **THE GOVERNOR'S BALL**

 **Rated K**

Rick tugged at his bowtie, slightly uncomfortable. He wasn't used to wearing these kinds of things, and frankly, if he didn't _have_ to be here, he wouldn't be.

It wasn't that it wasn't an honor to be honored. That wasn't the case in the least. If anything, due to recent events, he'd never been happier to be honored about something.

It had just cost a lot to be here.

And currently _here_ was the Governor's state ball. Everybody who was anybody was here tonight, but it wasn't something Rick would have ever been invited to or would have gone to if it wasn't for his past circumstances.

When a cop is gunned down in the middle of the day and is in a coma for several weeks, that's big news. And when you survive something like that, you start to get invitations to things like this.

And have the chief of police yapping your ear off and introducing you to all the important people – at least in regards to politics – didn't seem like much of a reward.

"Oh, Rick," the Governor was saying, "There's someone else I want to introduce you to." Rick tried to smile but figured it came out as a grimace.

It was times like these that he missed Lori.

Not that she was missing him all that much.

Rick and the Governor turned around but halted almost immediately.

"Now here's someone you should thank your lucky stars didn't grill you on the stand today," the Governor said, but Rick wasn't sure he heard the man, not really.

He missed her name. He knew he had, because out of the corner of his eye he saw the way the Governor motioned to him, clearly introducing them, and they even shook hands, but he hardly remembered any of it.

He was taken aback by her beauty.

She was probably the most stunning individual he'd ever seen: curly 'locks that were braided into a fancy up-do, gold makeup to highlight the natural glow of her skin, and a sleek, burnt orange dress that hugged every curve in all the right places and in every good way imaginable.

He was pretty sure he'd never seen anything like her.

He didn't snap out of it until he realized both the woman and the Governor were staring at him.

"I'm sorry, what?" asked Rick, slightly shaking his head.

"We were just saying how good the ceremony was," the Governor stated.

"Right," said Rick nodding, but he kept his eyes on the woman. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

Michonne smiled, her dark eyes dancing with amusement. "Michonne," she said, extending her hand for what had to be second time.

"Michonne." It tasted like liquid gold, coming out of his mouth. He'd never heard such a name before but he found himself intrigued.

"She's the hottest attorney in Atlanta," the Governor told him. "Hell, I'd say all of Georgia but then she might think I'm hitting on her." He winked at her. "Though… a couple of birds told me that you're a free woman now." The Governor's eyes shifted to an older Black man at the bar.

Michonne grinned. "And you're still very much married, Governor."

He laughed. "You wouldn't look twice at me even it wasn't."

"No, I can't say you're my type." Her eyes flickered to Rick.

"Well I'm Rick Grimes."

"I know who are you," grinned Michonne. "We're here tonight, after all, to honor you. Now which jurisdiction are you apart of again?"

"King's County," Rick said easily.

"Right." Understanding flashed in those brilliantly scintillating eyes. "That would explain why you and I have never crossed paths."

"Yah, not a lot of action in my neck of the woods."

Her eyes briefly shot down to his chest, where he'd been shot and almost lost his life. "You've seen enough action."

"Well not a lot of action very often," amended Rick. "Most of my position gives me the authority to break up fist fights."

"If that were the case they'd give me a uniform to wear," Michonne told him with a smile.

Rick's gaze intensified. "I'm pretty sure you can do a lot more than break up fist fights."

He wasn't one hundred percent certain, but he was pretty sure he'd just gotten Michonne to blush. She took a tentative sip of her wine and at the same time T-Dog and Tyreese, two of the Governor's men, came up to them and started whispering. Michonne and Rick stared, both mildly interested.

"It looks like I have some business to take care of," the Governor told them. "If you two will excuse me." Both Rick and Michonne nodded and watched as he disappeared. When he turned back to Michonne she was already staring at him.

For some reason it made his heart skip a beat.

He was just about to ask her if he could get her another drink – her glass of white wine seemed a little low – when an older gentleman, the same one from the bar earlier, approached her.

"Michonne. I believe you said you'd save me a dance."

She stiffened silently and then smiled. "You're right. I did say that." She turned back to Rick. "This is Ezekiel. He's a friend." Rick nodded. "If I don't dance with him now he'll never leave me alone."

Rick smiled as she started to turn away. "Hope to see you again."

"Hope to see you, too," said Michonne softly, and just like that, she was gone.

He felt a presence beside him but didn't immediately turn away.

"I know that look," stated a familiar voice.

Rick turned. "Agent Rovia," Rick said, holding out his hand. "How's the CIA treatin' you?"

"If I told you that, I'd have to kill you," responded Jesus as he returned Rick's handshake.

"That's really gettin' old," Rick said with a smile.

Jesus laughed. "I see you've met Michonne." Rick didn't say anything. "Your thoughts?"

"Divorced, recently. There was a mark around her ring finger that hasn't faded yet. She's strong. A fighter. Cultured and intelligent. No nonsense. She's kind. She knows what she wants and isn't afraid to get it, but she doesn't play dirty." He paused. "She's hurting, and she hasn't quite worked out how to heal yet. But she's stubborn, so she pushes through." He turned to Jesus. "Am I right?"

"You are," nodded Jesus.

Rick paused. "What happened to her?"

"Her ex husband got behind the wheel drunk, instantly killing himself and their three-year-old son. She was devastated. It's good to see her back. We weren't sure she'd make it through. She was gone, and for a long time. She became friends with Andrea—you remember her, right? Pretty blonde with a sister? Anyway, they became close and she really helped Michonne. Ezekiel had his eye on her, and I think they went on a few dates, but nothing came of it. He's really into her, though."

"How do you know all this?"

Jesus smiled. "It's my job to know." Rick had nothing to say to that. "You should talk to her. I haven't seen you look at another woman since you and Lori…."

"I don't know if I'm ready for anything serious. Besides, we might decide to stay together."

"For the sake of the baby?" Rick nodded, once. "The baby that could be your partner's?"

"She's mine, regardless of what anyone or any _thing_ says."

Jesus nodded. "I expect no less from you." Jesus paused. "It's getting late. I'm gonna get outta here. Remember what I asked you, a few weeks ago, about you joining us. Your world could get a whole lot bigger."

"I'm good just bein' a small town Sherriff."

"If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me." Rick nodded and watched him go. He mingled a little more, all the while keeping an eye out for Michonne. True to her word she'd saved Ezekiel _a_ dance, and then she'd been along her merry little way.

He didn't see her again until the end of the night. He found her on the balcony, sipping a glass of wine. When she heard him approaching she smiled. He didn't say anything, just stood next to her, overlooking the view of the city.

"You've heard," she stated.

Rick cringed. "How'd you know."

"You had the look. I know it well enough by now."

Rick chanced a glance at her, but she didn't meet his eye. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

She looked at him. "Me too."

Rick continued to stare at her until she met his gaze. "You wanna get outta here?"

"I'd love to," she told him honestly. "Honestly, nothing would make me happier." Rick felt his heart leap; it was a foreign feeling, one he'd never felt before. "But I can't."

Time seemed to stand still, and suddenly he felt like an idiot. "Of course. You probably have someone."

"I don't, but it seems like you do." Her eyes dropped down to the ring still on his finger.

"Oh." He looked at the ring on his finger. He hadn't thought too much about Lori since the moment he laid his eyes on Michonne, despite the fact that Jesus had asked about her. She seemed to be easy to forget lately. "I'm in the middle of a very messy divorce. Long story."

"Well I'd certainly love to hear about it," she told him. " _After_ it's final." She finished her drink and nodded to him, and then started to walk away.

"How will I find you again?"

She paused and turned around to face him. "You're a sheriff, right?" He nodded. "Something tells me if you try hard enough, you'll find me." He gave her a small smile. "Take care, Rick."

…

 _SIX MONTHS LATER_

A knock on Michonne's office door had her glancing up. "Come in." When she saw it was her secretary she sent the young girl a warm smile. "How can I help you, Maggie?"

"Someone's here to see you," she stated.

Michonne frowned. She didn't have any meetings scheduled. "Who is it? You know I'm working hard on my pro bono case." A woman named Carol was divorcing her abusive husband.

"He didn't say his name, but…" Maggie bit her lip. "I think you should talk to him."

"Why?"

"Well… he's a cop."

"A cop?" Michonne stood up and made her way to the door.

She was rarely caught off guard. There wasn't much that surprised her in her life. She tried her best to always prepare herself for whatever might come her way.

But to see Rick Grimes standing near her secretary's desk, a young Asian man next to him, also in uniform, was the last thing she'd ever expected to see.

Especially a Rick Grimes without his wedding ring.

He looked up just as she had straightened her face out, his bright blue eyes locking with hers. She gave him a soft smile and motioned for him to come in.

Inside her office she gently closed her door, willing her heart to calm down. He could he here for a million different reasons, none of which might have anything to do with her.

"Sheriff Grimes," she said softly. "What an unexpected surprise."

"A good surprise I hope. And call me Rick."

"If I call you Rick does that mean you aren't here on business?"

"No, I'm not. I believe you owe me a dinner."

Michonne blinked. "You came all the way to Atlanta… on a belief? I hope that's not how you all close cases out there in King's County."

Rick smiled. "Not at all."

"You could have called and asked me."

"You might not have been here."

"Yet you still took a risk and drove all this way." Her eyes twinkled. "You could have just called."

"Well it must've been somethin' else then," he finally admitted.

"Like?"

"Like maybe I wanted to see you."

Michonne grinned. "Why'd you bring your partner?"

"I'm trainin' him, and I bought him along… to make your secretary think it was official police business. It seems like it was a good idea. Glenn and Maggie seem to be hittin' it off. Maybe the four of us can grab a bite." Michonne studied him for a while. "Is that a problem?"

She shook her head. "No, there's no problem, Rick." She walked to her desk and grabbed her coat and purse. "After you."

He sent her a smile and they left her office.


	16. Still With You

_Come on. Did you think I wouldn't do a version of THE scene in "Conqueror?" It's still my favorite pre-canon Richonne scene. I almost named this work "Still With You," instead of "Must've Been Somethin' Else," that's how much I loved it. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do._

 **STILL WITH YOU**

 **Rated K**

Rick sat on the bed, both dreading what it is he had to do and knowing that he had to do it. He faced away from the door so he wouldn't have to see her approach – not that it mattered. He could _feel_ her approaching. He didn't hear her – he was too lost in his own thoughts to really hear her – but when she called his name, he didn't start. He'd felt her presence.

He _always_ felt her presence.

That's what would make this even more difficult.

Rick turned around just enough to see her out of the corner of his eye. He didn't face her completely, though. He couldn't. He'd have to. But not yet.

He wanted to prolong this for as long as he could.

"You ready?" Rick marveled at the way Michonne's voice was so soft, even now. Her voice was measured, free of judgment, even though they were headed to a meeting that would ultimately seal his fate. She didn't hate him, even if she was disappointed in him, and she _was_ disappointed.

He supposed he could finally add her to the list.

He fingered the gun and finally turned to face her.

Yah, he was ready, all right. It was time to come clean.

He took in her appearance before saying anything: the constable outfit still looked good on her. It suited her: the jacket, the shirt, the tie. He figured in another life she'd have made an excellent boy in blue. He imagined they would have been partners, much like they were in this life.

Rick liked to imagine that in that life, he wouldn't have lied to her.

Not that he had lied to her in this life, per say. He'd omitted some things, and he was worried about how it'd play out. She could turn on him, and he wouldn't have the right to blame her or feel betrayed if she did.

He'd caused this on himself.

He turned away from her, turned away from that uniform, the uniform that used to mean something to him, and looked at the gun.

He wouldn't be able to look at her as he confessed.

Sometimes he could be such a coward.

"Carol, Daryl, and me..." Rick shifted as Michonne made her way into his room, "we worked it out together. Carol took three guns from the armory." Now he looked at her. "I still have one and she still has one."

He could feel his heart threatening to come out of his chest as he stared at her. She stood there, against the wall, staring at him, and he thought it'd be best if he just said it. Don't beat around the bush – give it to her quick, and straight. He glanced away but knew she deserved to _see_ him, so he met her eyes again.

He'd have to live with consequences.

"We lied to you," he told her, "because I wasn't sure how you'd take it, what you'd do." He held out the gun, attempting to hand it to her, and willed himself to keep eye contact. He did, for a moment, and then his eyes shifted away from her, briefly, before resting back on her.

She didn't take the gun. Instead she let out a soft sigh and tossed her jacket down on the bed. "You think I'd try to stop you?"

The question rang casual enough, but it did nothing to calm him down. He stared at her for a few more seconds before lowering his gun, understanding that now he'd have to tell her another truth, and he wasn't sure how this truth would affect him. By telling her this… by stating something he had suspected about himself for awhile now, he would be giving her more power than he'd given anyone else in a long time.

"Well you did hit me over the head." He'd meant it as a joke, something to diffuse the tension, but it fell flat.

"That was for you," responded Michonne, and it was the first time that there was an edge to her voice. "Not them." Her voice held that fierce undertone that he'd grown to appreciate.

She was always the only one to ever give it to him completely straight.

She'd never have lied to him, or hidden something like this from him.

Rick nodded, looking away again, and then stood up. He knew what he had to do. He couldn't lie to her again. He couldn't. If he did, it'd probably destroy them and be the end of them.

He approached her, and readied himself to tell the truth. "I was afraid you'd talk me out of it," he admitted, his hands making a motion as if he were saying, "There. Ya happy?" He'd admitted something that he'd kept to himself for a long time now, something that both terrified him and thrilled him, though he wasn't sold on the thrilling part yet. His eyes flickered over her, briefly. "You could've." If anyone could have, it was Michonne.

It was such a strange thing to admit, that someone had the ability to change his mind about something.

Several something's.

He was here, because of _her_. Because _she_ had said they were coming.

Michonne stared at him in silence for a few moments, slowly shaking her head. "We don't need them here. I don't need my sword." Rick just stared at her. "I think you can find a way." He looked around, wishing it were the simple. And then one word had him staring at her again. " _We_ can find a way."

Rick felt his heart stop for one fleeting moment, and in that moment, he realized himself a fool. _This_ was the woman he was going to hand over to the Governor. This brilliant, open-minded woman who was trying her damnest to make this work, no matter how difficult it was.

 _We can find a way…._

With her eyes still locked to his, Michonne continued. "And if we don't…" Michonne gave him a soft smile. "I'm still with you."

Rick just stared at her, unaware of the relief he felt in hearing those word, and what they meant to him. He wouldn't be able to tell her – maybe one day, when thing settled down, if they ever settled down – he'd be able to tell her. For now, the relief he felt was such a foreign feeling that it was gone before he could grasp the concept of it, fleeting into a dark, lonely place, tucked away to hopefully be brought back out during another time and another place.

"Something's going to happen," stated Michonne, and she continued to talk as if she hadn't just rocked his world. "Just don't _make_ something happen."

Rick looked at her, quietly wondering how she had the ability to render him speechless without ever raising her voice. How was she always so logical? Everything that ever came out of her mouth always made perfect sense, and if he had stopped trying so hard to hate this place, he might have been able to see what she saw.

She was right.

He nodded, lowering his eyes, and attempted to hand her his gun again.

Without even looking down she gripped his gun and lowered it, firmly placing it at his side. He remained frozen, whether from shock or because he was still slightly transfixed, he didn't know.

She let his hand go and grabbed her jacket, and made her way out of his room. "Don't be too long," was all she said, and then she was gone.

Rick stared at the empty doorway as his heart returned to its normal pace.

They were good. _He_ was good. No matter what happened… no matter what Deanna or the rest of Alexandria said or voted… it was going to be okay.

She was with him.

And maybe some day he'd be able to explore why that meant so much to him.

* * *

A/N: If possible, I am falling even more in love with this ship. I LOVEDDDDD this one. OMG. But I'm biased because I genuinely LOVED this episode... Just so many Richonne feels.


	17. Counting Scars with Kisses

_Soulmate A/U where only your soulmate can kiss away your scars. LOVE soulmate A/U's FYI, if anyone has one, please leave a prompt! Title from the INCREDIBLE talent that is Sade._

 **COUNTING SCARS WITH KISSES**

 **Rated M for smut**

Finding your soulmate was something that everybody _wanted_. It just didn't always happen. Realistically there were too many people in the world, and having a soulmate didn't guarantee that you would find them. Soulmates weren't born in the same town or city, let alone within the same state or country. Some people spent their entire lifetime attempting to find their soulmate.

He wasn't one of those.

Besides, who had time to go around kissing every person who was ever injured? It seemed somewhat ridiculous, and practically impossible, to find the person you were supposed to be destined to spend the rest of your life with by being able to kiss away their scars.

Him and his best friend Shane would talk about how something like a soulmate wouldn't define them, that it didn't matter to them, and that if they found someone they liked who wasn't their soulmate, then that was just too bad.

A soulmate shouldn't define a relationship.

Rick knew Lori wasn't his soulmate after three weeks of dating. She had a small scar on her knee that she'd gotten when she was a little girl. She'd fallen off her bike and she'd fallen into a yard of rocks, slicing her knee open.

He'd seen it, and dreaded it, because he knew what came along with that scar. Sometimes the pressure was unbearable. What if he _was_ her soulmate? What if he wasn't? What did both of those outcomes mean, either way?

He'd tried to ignore it for the most part. If she didn't mention it, he wouldn't. It's not like there was a manual on this kind of thing – how early should someone attempt to kiss a scar in a relationship?

But one night, on a date at a drive-in movie, they were laying there, in the back of his truck, and they were holding hands, and she had on a skirt that was rather short – whether it was to highlight the scar or entice him, Rick didn't know – but nonetheless, as if fate would have it, Lori had leaned in for a kiss, and the only natural place for his hand to fall was on her knee.

The kiss was magical…. It was everything that he'd ever hoped it would be, definitely his best and favorite first kiss. When he'd finally pulled back from her, his eyes searching hers, he knew what it is she wanted. So he'd dipped his head and kissed her knee.

The scar stayed put.

She'd been disappointed, he could tell, but she claimed it didn't matter, that she liked him anyway, and he continued to court her. As time passed things got even more serious, and before long, two years had passed and they were going to prom and graduating.

He asked her to marry him a year after he'd graduated from the police academy, Shane as his best man, and then a year later she was pregnant with their son.

He'd been over the moon; he'd never been happier.

And then suddenly… he wasn't happy anymore.

He wasn't sure what had changed. One day she accused him of not communicating, and she told him that she didn't know if he loved her, or their son.

Things got progressively worse for them after that, and Rick found himself expressing his dissatisfaction with his marriage to his best friend and partner. If anyone understood him, it was Shane. Shane had never been able to keep a woman and he always seemed to have a story to tell or relate to.

Rick suspected that despite their vow to not worry about their soulmate, Shane was waiting out for his.

When Rick was shot on the job and went into a coma, he never suspected the world would have gone to shit while he was under. He'd woken up to a deserted hospital, an abandoned town, and no wife or son, the streets filled with walkers.

He didn't think he'd ever see his family again.

When he'd been told that most of the residents had been taken to Atlanta, Rick went there as quickly as he could, finding a horse and galloping into the city convinced that he'd find Lori and Carl.

Instead he found a town swarming with walkers.

He'd been rescued by a kid named Glenn, and he was brought to their camp. He watched as one of Glenn's friends, Andrea, was reunited with her sister. A guy named Vato was reunited with his family.

It made it all real for him, in that moment, being at that camp, to know that he would probably never find Lori or Carl.

Only when he got out of the truck… they were there. He'd been stunned, almost unable to walk, overcome with relief and a million of other emotions. He'd hugged them, held on to them as tightly as he could, convinced he'd never let them go again, and his eyes rested on Shane, his partner, and his best friend.

He should have known. If anyone had gotten Lori and Carl out, it'd have been him.

It would take him a few more days to realize it. It was hard for him to kiss every inch of her body with Carl asleep with them in the tent, but after they'd been able to sneak away, he'd noticed it: the scar from her C- section was gone.

It'd always been pretty faint, but it had been there. He _knew_ her body.

It wouldn't take Rick long to realize that the scar Shane had received from being tazed on the arm was gone too.

He never said anything. He could have. Maybe he even should have. But him and Lori were determined to make it work, he _loved_ her, that was the bottom line, and that's what he'd signed up for when he'd vowed that he'd be hers until death do them part.

She had thought he was dead. So had Shane. He couldn't fault them for that.

That's what he tried to tell himself when she told him she was pregnant.

He would have worked it out with her. For the new baby's sake, he would have. But for some reason she couldn't seem to get over the fact that he'd killed Shane – in self-defense. That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back in their marriage.

It was the first time that he realized maybe love wasn't enough, and this soulmate thing was more important than he ever gave credit for.

…

After Lori died giving birth to their daughter – and Judith _was_ his, it didn't matter what DNA might or might not prove – Rick didn't think about love or soulmates for a long time.

Who had _time_ for shit like that when he was trying to protect his son and daughter and their group? The group that seemed to be growing every second. One minute it was just a half a dozen of them, the next it was a lot more. He had a lot more people to think about.

He had to put himself last.

It wasn't like he _wanted_ to go down that road again. Lori was haunting him, and he was trying to work out how to live with the guilt. Despite the fact that they weren't soulmates, he had loved her, and their last meaningful conversation was about them getting divorced in the middle of an apocalypse.

When they lost the prison, Rick was forced to let Lori go. He thought he'd lost Judith, he'd lost all of their people, and he was so close to losing his mind that Lori was the farthest thing from his mind.

His first ray of happiness that he could remember feeling in a _long_ time was when Michonne had found him. Michonne, who'd started off as something close to an enemy but was slowly turning into something even closer than a friend. She was quickly turning into a mother-figure for Carl, and he needed that more than anything now that Lori was gone.

It took some dark and dangerous times in order for him to be reunited with the rest of the group, and he owed it all to Carol. Carol, who he'd kicked out the group for murdering innocent people, had, for all her faults, saved them.

 _And_ she had had Judith.

The relief, the pure joy he'd felt at having his daughter back, made everything, _everything_ worth it.

They were a family again, even in this strange world: Carol, Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, Tyreese, Abraham, Eugene, Rosita, Tara.

 _Michonne_.

He owed everything to Michonne.

She was the reason they were here, in Alexandria, and why he was currently getting his hair cut by a woman named Jessie.

He hardly knew Jessie, but she reminded him of… home, of safety, of another life that he had very nearly forgotten about – a life he thought he might not ever see again.

Being behind these walls… being in a Safe Zone allowed him to think about himself for the first time in _months_. They could build a home here, a life here, that's what his group get telling him.

Maybe he had a future with her.

He found himself playing with his wedding ring a lot. Lori had died several months ago. Living in an apocalypse was like aging in dog years, so months really felt like years. So much could happen in a day or in a week that even though it'd only been about six months since Lori's death, it felt like a lifetime ago.

He'd never really went through the grieving process. He couldn't, not when he was seeing her and talking to her. It was like she was still with him. And the prison had been destroyed and he couldn't think about how much he _might_ miss Lori.

But maybe he wouldn't have to miss her.

Jessie… awakened something in him, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

The one time he kissed her it reminded him slightly of what he'd had with Lori, just enough to peak his curiosity about her. She might be okay if he ever had a moment to _think_ about it. It seemed like Alexandria kept having _issues_ , and he couldn't focus on Jessie.

But he when he kissed her, at least he was able to enjoy that moment.

Until he moved her bang out the way and kissed the side of her forehead.

He hadn't known there was a scar there – he wasn't looking for one per say, he'd just been trying to offer her some comfort when she needed it – but when he pulled away he noticed it.

Which meant he wasn't her soulmate.

He hadn't thought about his soulmate since Lori had told him it didn't matter. It _didn't_ matter. You loved who you wanted, you made your own decisions, you picked who _you_ wanted.

He had wanted Jessie, but he hadn't loved her, and he imagined that her not being his soulmate made chopping off her arm to save Carl that much easier.

…

The first time he'd kissed Michonne Rick knew it was like nothing else he'd ever experienced.

As cliché as it sounds, time really did stop.

He knew nothing, he saw nothing, he felt nothing, he _touched_ nothing other than Michonne the minute their hands connected after he'd handed her that pack of mints.

Kissing her was the best decision he'd ever decided to make in his life, and he wondered why the hell it had taken him so long to ever do such a thing.

He almost – _almost_ – thought about how stupid he'd been with Lori and Jessie, only there was nothing left to think about other than the wonderment beneath him.

He'd bring her a pack of mints every day for the rest of his life if he had to.

He'd never wanted, needed, or craved a human being like he did Michonne.

He didn't give a damn about fate, our soulmates, she was _it_ for him, for now until the end of time.

Rick wasn't even sure how the hell it happened. She'd asked for him to bring home some toothpaste from his run with Daryl and due to a plethora of unfortunate circumstances he couldn't do that – but he had thought enough about her to bring home some mints, making sure they were spearmint, since that's the flavor toothpaste she liked.

It should have been his first real _conscious_ clue that she was different. Right here, right now, in this moment, with kissing her and her body responding and his doing the same, it was obvious that _subconsciously_ this was always in the back of his mind.

In retrospect he would learn that he had to experience Lori to learn about the bad. Jessie was there simply to open him up again.

But Michonne… Michonne was his, forever, no matter what, and if he had to bring her Lifesavers for her to understand that, then so be it.

One touch, and he was undone.

One kiss, and for the first time, he felt like he was living again.

Somehow they made it upstairs – that part would always be hazy – and to his room, and then they were all over each other. He distinctly remembered her putting her sword down, and then she approached him, and then their clothes were off and he was kissing her again.

It felt _right_.

Kisses with Lori, and his kiss with Jessie… they had been good.

But Michonne… kissing Michonne was right.

It was _different_.

Michonne sighed into his mouth and started kissing on his chest, her lips brushing the nearly invisible scar where Morgan had stabbed him all those months ago.

When Michonne jerked in his arms he looked at her. She was staring at his chest in awe, her mouth agape. Then her fingers gently brushed the place her lips had just vacated.

"Rick," she whispered with wonderment.

"What?" It took him a second to get it, to understand, when he looked down at his chest, because at first he didn't see anything.

And that's when it hit him: _he didn't see anything_.

He stared at her – dumbfounded, literally and truly dumbfounded – and then reached up to a small cut she had on her forehead from when the Governor had forced her head into a fish tank. Then he slowly, slowly, so slowly leaned in and kissed the scar.

By the time he leaned back to look at it, it was gone.

"Holy shit," said Rick in disbelief. "Holy fuckin' shit." He let out a laugh, placing his forehead against hers, and shook his head. "I'm not even all that surprised. Of course it's you. Who the hell else would it be?"

She wrapped her arms around him. "Make love to me," she requested gently.

He obliged.

He wasn't sure what made him pick her up and slam her against the wall, but she didn't complain. In fact, her body immediately reacted to him, and with one hand covering her mouth he pounded into her until she came.

Eventually they made it to the bed, bodies flush with sweat, creating new scars as he dug his nails into her hips and she scratched at his back.

When they were finished he rolled off of her, unable to do anything other than gasp for breath.

Sleep was coming, and soon, but Rick found the strength to, at the very least, grab his gun and watch and place them on the nightstand so that they'd be in close proximity to him.

He was placing his watch down when Michonne reached out and brushed his back.

"What scar is this?" she asked softly.

"I was shot in the line of duty."

"This the one that put you in a coma?"

Rick nodded. "Carl told you?"

"Yah." He nodded again and was about to turn and face her when he felt her lips on it. He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply.

He let her count every scar, and then she let him do the same for her.

Eventually they kissed away every scar they counted.

* * *

A/N: Loved, loved, loved, LOVED! Hope you guys did too =) Also, I'm headed to Miami today for a week long vaca. I still plan to post (and write) though LOL


	18. The Walking Inferi

_So. If any of you have been following my other stories, you know my first love is actually Harry Potter (even though the first fan fic I ever wrote was Everlark. I joined the fan fic nation SUPER LATE). ANYWAY, I said all that to say that I oftentimes do a cross-over one-shot that involves HP because I wasn't writing fan fic when HP was out (I regret that every day). So to make a long story longer, I love to combine my favorite ships with my favorite stories. SO! Here ya go. This'll probably turn into a three-shot. All HP related one-shots will combine TWD and HP._

 _Just a heads up: there will not be weapons per say. A person's wand will emulate a certain weapon (for example, Michonne has a spell to make her wand act as a katana, Daryl has a spell to make his wand act like a bow, etc). it might not make sense right now, just read the story LOL. Keep in mind that spells make noise, just like a gun makes noise._

 _Also, for those of you don't read/watch HP (I'm praying for you) you don't have to really know anything to understand this story. Inferi are corpses controlled by Dark Wizards. In THIS case, just like TWD and FTWD, we don't know what caused the outbreak. But basically they Inferi are walkers in HP Universe LOL, which is why this crossover is so genius. Muggle means non-Magic folk._

 _Like modern technology in the Muggle world, there are certain things that no longer work in this universe: There are no more portkeys, and you can't Apparate/Disapparate (that'd be too damn easy). Working brooms (like working cars) are hard to come by. Like in TWD, you have to kill Inferi through the brain._

 _FYI, circumstances will be a little different. I might mix up and mash up a few plots. Also, obviously Michonne couldn't meet Rick and Co at the prison because NO ONE'S CAMPING OUT IN AZKABAN! LOL. Oh, and CAROL DOES NOT EXIST IN THIS UNIVERSE!_

 **THE WALKING INFERI**

 **Rated T**

She approached the gates, limping, the basket of baby food in her hand. She could see a man standing at the gates, dressed like a Muggle, his wand in his hand. He was staring, his expression stunned, as he looked at her.

They stared at each other in silence for several moments, the woman clutching the railing of the kissing gate, while the man continued to look at her as if he couldn't quite figure her out.

After a while an Inferious walked up next to her. With one last glance to the mysterious man at the gates, the woman grabbed her wand, dropping the basket, and without muttering an incantation, sliced the walker in half. She then turned towards a few others who had started towards her due to the noise and attempted to defend herself. She was doing okay, until one walker got stuck on end of her wand. She used her foot to push the walker off, and then fell back.

It didn't take long for the world to fade to black.

…

Michonne felt something warm enter her body, and then her eyes started to focus.

The first thing they rested on was a pair of forget-me-not blue eyes that rendered her temporarily speechless. Then she started to look around, panic starting to creep in as she noticed she was surrounded.

She immediately grabbed for her wand, lying next to her, but the man kicked it out the way.

"Easy, easy." The voice was gentle and had her looking at him again. "We're not gonna hurt you." She looked away from him and glanced back at the people around her: an older man with a beard, Muggle crutches holding him up; a young girl holding a baby, and a boy with familiar blue eyes.

It wasn't a lot of them, but she couldn't take them without her wand.

As if seemingly reading her mind, Blue Eyes said, "Hey. We're _not_ gonna hurt you."

She stared at him for a long time, searching his eyes for something. All she saw was grief, even though he was trying to mask it. In the end she just stated, "I didn't ask for your help."

"Yah, well, you got it." His voice wasn't cold, but he spoke like a man who was used to getting his way. He held up her wand. "We'll keep this safe." He nodded to his team, and without saying a word, the rest of the people started heading out of the room, the boy with the similar eyes grabbing the basket of formula, Rick following them. "You're safe here. No one can get to you, but we'll have to lock you in, to make sure you can't get to us."

He didn't apologize for it.

She heard them speak the incantation and the lock on the door clicked shut.

…

She was grimacing in pain when she heard the door click open. She straightened her face by the time the door opened, the faint sound of a baby crying greeting her ears, and then disappearing when the door was closed. She couldn't let them see her as weak. The leader and the old man came back, followed by another guy with long black hair. The leader had a plate of food in his hand that he sat down in front of her.

She didn't even look at it. She just kept her eyes on the men.

"Rick," said the man with black hair, and he jerked his head to her leg. Her wound was bleeding.

Rick looked at her wound and then nodded, walking towards her and grabbing a chair and spinning it around so that the chair was backwards but he was facing her. The two of them stared at each other. "We need to know how you found this place."

She stayed quiet for a while, taking them all in. They seemed concerned. It had her looking away and finally speaking.

"I heard about it. Said it was a straight shot. A young Asian guy and a pretty young girl."

She saw them all tense.

The one they called Rick moved a little closer. "Where are they?" Now his voice held a threatening edge.

She understood the accusation. She was here, they weren't. "They were taken," she answered.

"Taken?" Rick stood up, moving the chair out of the way. "Taken by who?"

"The same son of a bitch who shot me."

"Hey, hey!" Rick stepped closer to her. "Those are our _people_. Start talkin'… _now_." He dug his finger into her wound and she gasped, and then she pushed him. The black haired man stood in front of Rick, his wand raised.

"Don't you _ever_ touch me again," she snapped out.

"Chill, or you'll have a lot more to worry about than a bullet wound." She glared at the man with the black hair, until Rick motioned for him to lower his wand. He stood between them.

"Tell us what you know."

The two of them glared at each other. "Find 'em yourself."

The two of them seemed to square off as they eyed each other, both of their bodies at full attention and tense. The two of them looked like mirror images as they sized each other up. It was a battle of the wills, and only of them would come out on top.

It was the quiet worry in his eyes – the slight panic that no one else probably even noticed – that had her looking away. With a slight air of defeat she spoke. "There's a town, not too far away. Run by a guy who calls himself The Minister. Tom Riddle type. Charmin', but dangerous. I'd bet deadly."

"You know how to get there?" asked Rick. She nodded. Him and the black-haired man looked at each other. "This is Hershel, the father of the girl who was taken. Maggie is her name. He'll fix your leg."

With that, he was gone again.

…

She sat in silence as Hershel fixed her leg. "You're a healer?"

"I was, yes," the older man said.

"At St. Mungo's?"

"No." He wrapped her leg up. "My specialty was always animals. But there's a reason healers practice on animals. We're relatively similar." She kept quiet. "What's your name?" She looked at him for a few seconds, and then told him. "That's a pretty name. Where are you from?"

"Somewhere far away from here," she finally responded.

He nodded. "Aren't we all?"

Rick entered the room again at that moment.

"She'll be fine in no time," Hershel declared.

Rick nodded and glanced around, his eyes resting on her plate. "You haven't eaten." She just looked at him. "You got a name?" She continued to stare at him and he stared back at her. A tense silence filled the room as Rick realized she wasn't going to answer him. It was broken when Hershel told him.

Rick looked at her. "Michonne, huh?" Saying her name sent an unfamiliar chill through his body. It took all of his strength to suppress the shivers going up his spine. Her name sent a buzz into his brain and made him feel like Nargles had taken over.

His only thought was to ignore it.

"You should eat. You'll need your strength. We're leaving at nightfall to rescue Maggie and Glenn." With that, Rick was gone, Hershel behind him.

…

Outside the gates Rick turned to Michonne. "This is Daryl." He pointed to the black-haired man who'd threatened her with his wand. "This is Oscar." Ric pointed to a Black man. He reached into his pocket and pulled out her wand, staring at her as he handed it to her. "You try _anything_ , and you're dead." She just stared at him. "You got a problem with that?"

She took a deep breath. "No, Rick. I don't have a problem." Her voice was kinder than he had expected it to be, and it momentarily rendered him speechless.

"Lead the way," he finally said, and she did.

He watched her as she walked.

…

Rick couldn't say he was all that surprised when Michonne disappeared during the rescue mission. He _was_ surprised when she returned, bloodied and bruised. He Disarmed here immediately, forcing her to give up her wand.

"You get what you came for?" asked Rick coldly. She just looked at him.

He'd have left her there, then. He could have. He _wanted_ to. But Maggie hand mentioned the cut on her forehead, plus her injured leg, and Michonne said they'd need help to get back home.

She had cost them Daryl, and Oscar was dead now.

"If we lose Daryl," he started to threaten, but she interrupted him.

"I bought you here to find them," she told Rick, glancing at Glenn and Maggie. "Go find Daryl. I'll wait here with Glenn."

He didn't like leaving Glenn alone in his condition: he was severely beaten, but Rick knew Glenn could hold his own. After staring at Glenn for a few seconds, Rick nodded. Together he and Maggie made their way back inside.

…

Michonne kept silent as she stared wearily ahead, her leg hurting as they made their way back towards home.

These people cared about each other, that much was obvious, and it hadn't taken her too long to realize that. She would have wanted to stay with them. She would have figured out _how_ to stay with them.

And then, as if the world wasn't finished handing her shit, Daryl ended up being brothers with the man who'd shot her, and kidnapped Maggie and Glenn.

 _Merle_.

She couldn't stay with them.

And it's not like Rick had given her an option. " _We'll fix you up when you get back, and then you are gone_."

"How did you meet Andrea?" asked Maggie softly.

Michonne looked at her for a few moments before answering. "I… saw her in the woods one day. She was trying to fight off a herd of Inferi, but she was outnumbered, so I helped her. Shortly after that she got sick, so I did what I could to nurse her back to health. She was my first friend, in a really long time." She took a deep breath. "Merle and I don't agree on a lot of things, but he's right about her. She's in bed with the Minister. I had no idea she knew you guys, or that you knew her. She didn't really talk about you, at least not by name. She mentioned a guy named Shane, but I haven't met a Shane."

"Yah you won't," Rick said, and Michonne wasn't surprised to find him listening. "He's dead."

Michonne had no immediately response to that. "When she finds out, she'll be hurt. She cared about him."

"Seems like she's gotten over him," stated Maggie.

Michonne kept quiet, choosing not to tell them the rest of the story: that even though Andrea didn't mention any names, she had mentioned that Shane was in love with his best friend's wife, a wife who was pregnant and wasn't sure who the father was.

Michonne hadn't seen a wife yet, but she certainly had heard a baby a few times.

"Anyway," Michonne finally said to Maggie, "Andrea made it clear who her loyalties lied with tonight. Whatever happens next is on her."

…

A few days later Michonne looked outside her window to see Rick outside, talking to himself, his wedding ring glistening in the sun. His face was anguished.

She knew that look. She also knew it was supposed to be a private moment.

She finished packing her remaining things and then took another look out the window. Rick was walking back inside.

Michonne swung the bag over her shoulder. It was time to go.

…

"She had a concussion. Her wounds still need a little more time," Hershel told Rick. Rick took a deep breath and Hershel stepped closer to him. "She's not a threat, Rick. I think deep down you know that. We can't let this world, or its circumstances, change us. We still have to be compassionate."

"She's hot headed."

"So are you," stated Hershel, not at all unkindly. "I think that's why you two are at odds. But I think if you look a little deeper, you two can find common ground." Rick shook his head. "The residents like her: Maggie, Beth, Daryl, Tyreese, Sasha, Tara… Not to mention Michonne and Glenn nearly went on that run the other day. Carl himself said she was one of us."

"Because they bonded over Quidditch."

"It's deeper than that, Rick. He spends _hours_ with her in her room. You can hear them laughing all the way down the hall." Rick exhaled. "She drew Carl a picture of Lori for Judith." Rick tensed. "I only know because I walked in on them while it was happening. Michonne is… cultured, artistic. Carl was describing Lori and Michonne drew it perfectly." Rick's eyes briefly fluttered closed. "She _is_ one of us, Rick."

There was a soft knock on the door and then Michonne walked in. "Hey."

"You're not supposed to be out of bed," Hershel exclaimed. He arched an eyebrow when he noticed a bag in her hand. "Are you goin' somewhere?"

"Maggie packed me a small bag."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I'm not used to staying where I'm not wanted," Michonne replied. "I'll be fine. I've endured worse than this, trust me. I just… wanted to thank you for healing me."

"I don't know how you think you're getting' out of here without my seal of approval, but I'll let you think you can leave," Hershel said as he made his way towards the door. "You two should talk." And then he was gone.

Rick looked at her. "Hershel runs things, but I get the feelin' if you wanna go, you'd go." Michonne nodded.

"I never thanked you," said Michonne.

"For what?"

"Letting me in."

"Well, if you didn't have that baby formula, I wouldn't have."

"You could have just taken the formula." She locked her eyes to his, and he found it nearly impossible to look away.

"Well… must've been somethin' else, then." He looked her over, briefly, before his eyes met hers again.

"Look… before I go… you're good people. You really are. So… I feel like I should warn you." She gazed into his eyes. "The Minister will come for you. He will come for your people. And he will not rest until you are dead. He had trophies. I saw them, when I disappeared. I went to his place, to his room. He had a little girl chained up. She was an Inferi. I think she was his daughter. I studied a lot in school, both Muggle and Magic. My parents were Muggles. They were psychologists. The Minister is a textbook sociopath. I guess it's the same no matter what world you come from. Whatever this is… it's not over." She paused as she continued to look at him. "I know you see things." She saw the surprise in his eyes. "I used to talk to my dead ex boyfriend. It happens. Just… be careful."

She gave him a soft smile, probably her first one, and it was blinding. He blinked for several moments, trying to get his bearings. By the time he came back around she was at the door.

"Michonne." She turned and looked at him. "Maybe you should stay."

The words shocked the hell out of him. He hadn't meant to say them, he hadn't even known he was going to say them when he called her name.

She searched his eyes for a long time. "Just for a little while," she responded.

For some unknown reason – it was almost like the narlgles had come back – he momentarily hoped that a little while lasted forever.

And then the thought was gone before he could even fully grasp it.

He blocked it out, almost as if he had performed an internal Memory Charm.

He settled on the thought that whatever came next, they'd handle it together.

…

A/N: Consider this the introductory piece to the HP/TWD Universe. I have way too many ideas for this world. I can't wait for you all to read more. I hope you guys liked it. We'll see plenty of appearances from TF soon.

Also, Miami is great, and I might not get to post as much as I thought. It's too much to do in this city LOL. If I don't post that often, I'm sorry. We'll be back to it next week. I leave Miami on Tues. =]


	19. Okay

A/N: WHAT THE FUCKING FUCKITY FUCK I CANNOT BELIEVE WE LOST PRINCE. LIKE. I CANNOT. ANOTHER LEGEND GONE. I THINK OF WHITNEY HOUSTON AS HERSHEL – I HAVE BECOME NUMB TO DEATH SINCE THEN, BUT PRINCE IS WHOEVER ENDS UP BEING LUCILLE'D…. I JUST CAN'T, YALL. IM SERIOUSLY HURT.

* * *

 _Of COURSE Michonne was right there when Rick was making his speech in "No Way Out" so of COURSE she was right there when Carl squeezed Rick's hand._

 **OKAY**

 **Rated K**

Michonne stood just outside the door, gently bouncing Judith up and down and trying to hold back the tears. She held Judith close to her, the little girl acting as an anchor, and stared at the broken man in front of her.

He was her best friend, her partner, her confidant.

And right now he was grieving over a child that none of them were sure would make it. She and Rick had shared a great many things since meeting up, but there was one thing she hoped they would never have to share together: the loss of a child.

She wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.

Rick sat in the chair next to the bed, the faint yellow hue of the lamp highlighting the blood on his face and shirt. Carl lay in that bed, his eye covered with a bandage that went all the way around his head.

"I was wrong," whispered Rick to Carl, his head bowed, his hand clutched in his son's. "I thought after being behind these walls for so long that… maybe they couldn't learn." Rick paused, staring at Carl. "But today… I saw what they could do. What _we_ could do… if we work together." It flashed in his mind, briefly, the way Father Gabriel, Heath, Spencer, Eugene… even Morgan stood up and fought tonight. "We'll rebuild the wall." They had to. "We'll expand the walls. There will be more, there's gotta be more. Everything Deanna was talking about is possible. It's all possible, I see that now." He stared at Carl, hoping his son could hear him. He wiped the side of his eye, and whether it was a tear, sweat, or blood, he didn't even know. "When I was out there with them and it was over, when I knew we had this place again, I had this feeling. It took me a while to remember what it was." He could feel himself getting emotional. "Because I haven't felt it, since before I woke up in that hospital bed. I wanna show you the new world, Carl."

The tears came then, because it was all so ironic, to have finally felt this feeling, after all this time, when the threat of not being able to share in this feeling with his son was looming over like a dark cloud.

"I wanna make it a reality for you. Please, Carl…." He shook his head as the pressure started to consume him. "Let me show you." Rick figured he would lose it, that there would be nothing left to give, if he lost Carl.

He could feel the despair starting to overtake him. He was so scared, so scared, and right when he was on the brink of breaking down, Carl gently wrapped his fingers around Rick's hand.

He froze, staring at his hand, wondering if he had imagined it but knowing that he hadn't, because where his son's hand had been open, it was now enclosed and encased around his.

Rick paused and just stared at his hand, and then looked up at Carl. He hadn't moved, not even an inch, but Carl had definitely squeezed his hand.

He stood up, but before he could call for Denise Michonne was right there.

"What is it? What happened?" she asked, and it was the second time within a few hours that he'd seen and heard her panicked. Michonne didn't _panic_. She was calm, cool, and collected, always, and to see the fear in her eyes touched a part of him that he hadn't even known could still be reached.

A part that Jessie had never come close to opening up, and neither had Lori.

He blinked that thought away as quickly as it came.

"He squeezed my hand," Rick told her, and the relief in her eyes reminded him how hard this must be for her, too.

Michonne took a deep breath and approached Carl, resting her hand on his arm. "He'll be all right," whispered Michonne.

Rick waited until she was looking at him to respond. "Yah, he will," Rick nodded. "He has to."

Michonne brought Judith to her again, her eyes fluttering closed, and she inhaled sharply. "I'll go and get Denise."

Rick nodded, watching her go.

They were going to be okay. His family had to be.


	20. Being a Big Sister

_Bonus Prompt – "Flash forward to Michonne pregnant and Judith talking to her sibling and touching her Mama's belly. Judith then asks where they got the baby from and how they put it in her belly. Rick and Michonne make up some outlandish story." –Guest_

 _Consider this the same Universe as 'A New Beginning' where Carl wants to leave to the Hilltop and Richonne discusses having a baby. This is NOT the same Universe as "Happy to Be Wrong."_

 **BEING A BIG SISTER**

 **Rated K**

Michonne walked in the house, sighing softly. Her feet hurt, her back hurt, and all she wanted to do was lie down for the next five months or so until this baby popped out of her.

She didn't remember being this big with Andre.

She sat her katana down next to the door and immediately sat down the couch. Just walking from the guard post to the house was exhausting. She wanted a glass of water but the kitchen seemed extremely far at the moment.

It was annoying.

She hadn't sat down more than ten seconds before Rick came downstairs, Judith next to him, holding his hand. At the sight of her Judith gasped and let go of her father's hand, running towards Michonne.

"What did we say about running in the house?" asked Rick. Judith faltered a little, almost pouting, but Michonne stuck out her arms and Judith seemingly forgot about her father and continued heading to Michonne, who immediately picked her up. "Can't say I blame her. I wanna run to you too."

His lips were soft and caught her in the middle of a smile that turned into a full on laugh when Judith pushed her father away and wrapped her arms around Michonne, proving that she wasn't going to share with her father.

"She's possessive," Michonne noted.

"Tell me about it," stated Rick as he made his way to the kitchen. "I don't know how she's gonna react to havin' a little sister or brother, but I'm worried."

As if on cue, Judith looked down at Michonne's stomach. Squatting she placed her palm on Michonne's belly.

"What's that?" asked the little girl.

Michonne looked up at Rick as he headed back to the living room, handing her a bottle of water. She nodded her thank you and screwed off the cap, immediately taking a long drink.

"Mom, what's that?" Judith repeated, louder this time.

Michonne glanced at Rick, who shrugged. Michonne looked at Judith. " _That_ is a baby, Judith."

The toddler scrunched up her face. "A _baby_? But _I'm_ a baby."

"Not anymore," explained Michonne. "Now you're a big sister."

Judith frowned, clearly thoughtful. "Why?"

"Because Mommy and Daddy are having another baby."

Judith stared at Michonne, and then turned to Rick, who couldn't help but smile. She stared at the two of them, and then tenderly poked Michonne's stomach with her index finger. "How?" Judith cocked her head to the side and Michonne dropped her jaw. Rick cleared his throat.

"You're too young to understand that," stated Rick immediately, sitting down on the coffee table.

"Dad, _how_ did a baby get in there?"

"You're not old enough to know," Michonne said.

"Yah," agreed Rick. "You have to be old to have a baby. Really, really, _really_ old. Like super old. Like _ancient_. You have to be as old as—" Rick's words came to an abrupt halt as he caught the look on Michonne's face. He gulped. "Well… you don't have to be _that_ old. I mean _you_ do, but not everyone. Definitely not everyone." He smiled sheepishly at Michonne, hoping he fixed his mistake.

"What your father is trying to say is you have to be at least as big as me," Michonne amended.

"No, that's not what I'm tryna say." Michonne looked at Rick. "What if she's tall for age?" he whispered. "What if she's your height when she's fifteen?"

"She won't _remember_ this when she's fifteen," snapped Michonne. "And if you don't shut up you won't live to see her fifteenth birthday." Michonne turned away from Rick. "Anyway, listen… you can't have a baby. Only one person per family is allowed to have one, and I already took care of that, okay?"

Judith looked down at Michonne's stomach, this time palming it. "It's a real baby?"

"Definitely real all right," Michonne smiled.

"How will it get here?"

"The same way you did," said Rick. "The stork bought you."

"The _store_?"

" _Stork_ ," Michonne corrected. "It's a really gigantic bird from heaven that God allows to come down, and this stork gifts women with babies. When the time is right, the baby will be delivered."

"And then what?"

"And then you become a big sister, and your daddy and I will have another baby."

"What's a big sister?"

"I'm so glad you asked," Michonne said softly, shifting so that she was a little more comfortable. "It's a _big_ job, but if anyone can do it, you can, so I want you to listen very carefully, okay?" Judith nodded. "First you have to love your brother or sister very, very much, just like you love Carl, and just like Carl loves you. Can you do that?"

"Yah, I love Carl!"

Michonne smiled. "And he loves you very much. Now once you love them, then you have to protect them. You'll be the older one, so that means you have to look out for them, like Carl does for you."

"Okay, what else?"

It was almost like she was taking notes.

"Now for the first few years your new brother or sister will probably follow you around a lot, and get on your nerves, but you still have to love them and be patient. They just love you and want to be like you because they look up to you. Always be kind. Always be understanding."

"What will Baby look like?"

Michonne shrugged. "We don't know yet."

"The bird doesn't tell you?!" Judith seemed truly shocked.

"Well, honey, the bird doesn't talk," said Michonne.

"Well can't you guess?"

Michonne placed her hand on her stomach. "I hope Baby has her daddy's forget-me-not blue eyes," Michonne's voice was quiet as she leaned back. "And curly hair. Lots and lots of curls."

"Baby'll have her mother's smile and laugh, and her quiet strength." Michonne looked at Rick, her eyes softening. "But I hope she's built like me. In fact, I hope she is a he." Rick stared at Judith. "Cus your momma's a knockout. And I can't have boys lookin' at her, or you, the way I look at her."

" _She_ will be fearless, like her daddy, and strong."

"And _he'll_ be brave, like his mother, and loving, and gentle. He'll be smarter than me. Make better choices. Do better. Be better."

Michonne reached out and grabbed Rick's hand. "Baby'll have our best traits. He _or_ she will."

Rick nodded at her and then the front door opened. Carl walked in and Judith climbed off of Michonne and ran up to him. "I'm a big sister!" Judith cried.

Carl laughed. "And you'll be the best big sister, because I'm the best big brother, and I'll teach you everything you need to know."

"Yay!" Carl picked her up and headed to the kitchen, winking at Michonne and Rick as he left.

"We've got good kids," commented Michonne.

"Yah we do," Rick nodded. "Yah we do."


	21. Long Overdue

_This'll be set sometime in "Knots Untie." Let's go with the thought that the group decided to meet with each other to discuss if they believed Jesus or not about trading with different communities._

 **LONG OVERDUE**

 **Rating T**

Rick stared at the small group, looking at each of them. "What do you think?" asked Rick.

"I don't know, man," Daryl stated with a shake of his head. "We been here for months and ain't never seen nothin'. Now all of a sudden there's not only one community, but a few?"

"It's a good opportunity," said Maggie. "We _need_ food." She touched her stomach, whether subconsciously or to purposely remind everyone that she was pregnant.

"Yah but are we 'bout to risk you and that baby on a hunch?" Daryl countered.

"I don't think it's a hunch," stated Glenn.

"I don't either," Rick agreed. "He coulda killed us at several different points, and he hasn't." He turned from the top of the stairs to glance at Jesus and Michonne, who had both her gun and her sword pointed at Jesus. "He coulda got one up on me and Michonne but he didn't."

"He said he checked out the armory," said Abraham. "When Carl comes back, we'll know if anything's missing. If not…." His voice trailed.

Daryl looked at Rick. "So we go. But we go prepared."

Rick nodded. Glenn, Maggie, and Abraham all headed back to the living room while Daryl lingered, a small smirk on his face. Rick arched an eyebrow.

"So you and Michonne?"

"Shut up," Rick said, glancing at Michonne.

Daryl laughed. "Don't you think it's about time?"

Rick's head snapped back to Daryl, and Rick took his best friend in. "You're not even surprised."

"I am. I'm surprised it took this damn long, especially 'cus she's been walkin' around in her damn bathrobe and shit. But it shoulda happened before this, before Alexandria. This is long overdue."

"Hey, I haven't had any more time than you have to think like this," said Rick. "Things kinda jus' settled down a little and I got a chance to _think_."

"Well we all think you shoulda _thought_ a long time ago."

"Hey, it's not like you guys ever said anything."

Daryl shook his head. "You wouldn't'a seen it noway."

"That's my point," Rick said.

Daryl chuckled. "She's good for you. And Carl and Judith. She ain't like Lori. And she damn sure ain't shit like Jessie. Michonne was always cut out for this world, man. She's already always had your back."

"Not always," smiled Rick. "We got off to a pretty rough start there."

"You were taken even then," Daryl said. "You think I ain't see, that no one saw, but you hated when she would leave off to find the Governor. You'd snap at everyone until she returned like it was _our_ fault she was fearless."

"I did not."

"You did."

Rick stayed silent. That wasn't how he remembered it. _Yes_ , he had been worried, the Governor was crazy, absolutely insane, and no one knew if she was okay until she returned, and sometimes that could be days or weeks.

"She'd been different then," Rick stated. "Angrier. Unbalanced."

"And you changed her. 'Cus you were off your hinges for a minute there. And you got better with her, the same way she got better with you. I ain't never been surprised when it came to you two. When we lost the prison and I stumbled up on y'all… I wasn't at all surprised to find you three together. None of us were."

"It wasn't like that then," said Rick.

"Yah it was. You jus' couldn't see it." Rick remained silent. "I'm glad you can see it now."

Rick looked down, a small smile gracing his lips. "Me too."

"Yah, so don't screw it up."

"Nothin' to screw up," Rick assured Daryl.

"Good. 'Cus in the case of a divorce… I'm tellin' you now… Carl and Judith are goin' wit' her."

Rick frowned. "Jesus. I haven't even told Carl, and he found out before all of you."

"Relax. You know damn well that kid loves Michonne. And Judith is about one month away from startin' to call her Mom. Those kids love her."

"Yah but Carl's… Carl's still very much a child. Lori hasn't been gone all that long. He doesn't understand that it feels like _years_ have passed—"

"Rick," Daryl interrupted. "Carl's been treatin' Michonne like his mom long before you even knew you had feelin's for her. That should tell you enough. Carl'll be cool, man. I promise he ain't no more surprised than the rest of us."

Rick nodded, his talk with Daryl suddenly reminding him that he would have to talk with Carl. _Soon_.

"You'll be okay," Daryl said, hitting Rick's stomach, much like he had done all those months ago when Michonne had shown up at the prison only to declare she was going to go back out there. "C'mon. We have a community to see about."

Rick nodded, and just then Michonne walked up to them.

"I'll leave you two alone," smirked Daryl.

Michonne and Rick ignored him. "Carl just got back. Nothing's missing."

"All right. Let's go." Michonne nodded and Michonne headed upstairs while Rick headed back to the living room.

It was time to get ready.


	22. Comfort

_Just a missing scene between "After" and "Claimed."_

 **COMFORT**

 **Rated T**

Michonne looked at Carl, who looked exhausted, and smiled softly. "Why don't you take the bed upstairs? I'll keep first watch while your dad continues to get some rest." Michonne's voice, though soft, always had the ability to make people listen. No one ever really argued with Michonne.

Still, Carl hesitated. "Are you sure? We got rest last night, and you just got here."

Michonne smiled softly. "I'm okay. I'll wake you when it's your turn." Carl searched her eyes for a few minutes and then nodded, rising out of his seat. "Say goodnight to your dad."

Carl turned to Rick. "Night," was all he said, and then he was heading up the stairs.

Rick sighed heavily. "He hates me."

"He does not," Michonne disagreed as she sat down so that she was facing Rick on the couch.

"He does. He said so. He… said a lot of things, last night. He didn't know I could hear him."

"What sort of things?"

"Everything. Things about me… Lori… Judith… Shane…." He sighed again, wearily this time.

"There are things Carl doesn't know."

Rick stared at Michonne for several moments. "But you do?"

Michonne looked away. "It's an apocalypse, not the end of the world. People still talk."

"So you know that Judith might not be mine?"

"I know I watched you fall in love with that little girl. Seems like she's yours to me. Blood doesn't always make you family, Rick."

Rick looked down. "Losing her hurts like she was mine…."

Michonne shifted. She knew what that was like, and she had no words of comfort for him. She knew what she was feeling, she understood what he was going through, but to talk about it with him… it'd be sharing a piece of Andre, and she wasn't sue it would help him heal at all.

"How'd you find us?" asked Rick after a few moments of silence.

Michonne hesitated for a moment. "I made a conscious decision to follow your footprints." Rick nodded. "I almost didn't," she added softly after a few seconds.

He looked at her sharply. "Why not?"

"I was afraid," explained Michonne softly. "I was afraid what following you meant… and then I was afraid of what I'd find…. And I wasn't sure you even wanted me to."

"Why in the hell wouldn't I have wanted you to?" Rick asked softly, sitting forward a little.

"I bought the Governor to the prison. He wanted me."

"He wanted _us_ ," disagreed Rick. "It's what I told Hershel… that even if I gave you up, he could still attack, and probably would. He wanted blood. He didn't care whose it was." Michonne stayed silent. "We lost that prison… we lost our _people_ because of the Governor." Michonne looked at Rick and then nodded.

"You should get some rest," she said.

Michonne stood up and attempted to go to window so she could keep watch, but Rick reached out and grabbed her hand.

"I'm glad you found us." The sincerity in his voice had Michonne's chest constricting, though she didn't know why. His touch was gentle but it still sent an electric shock through her.

"Me too." Her voice remained unaffected, and she was grateful for it. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and let it go, walking towards the window.

She didn't have to lonely anymore, she realized. And as Rick drifted off to sleep, his breathing labored, she realized that though it may still hurt, and that some days were better than other, this was her family now.

And that provided her with all the comfort in the world.


	23. The Right Side of the Tracks

A/N: Hey guys! I could use some more prompts! Thx. =]

* * *

 _Takes place during "Us." Title is a play on words (which you'll see at the end)._

 **ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE TRACKS**

 **Rated K**

A small gust of wind blew on Rick's face, and he inhaled. The temperature had dropped just enough for the air to feel pleasant. It was a nice change of pace from what they had gotten used to. The weather had been sticky and made their water supply low.

"I think we got about a day's worth of water left," Rick stated. "We're lucky it's cooled off a little bit, but—" He turned around and stopped as he realized the person he was talking to was nowhere near him.

He stood there for a few seconds as he took in the sight before him: Michonne and Carl were several feet away, attempting to balance along the tracks, both of their arms outstretched as they tried not to fall.

"What are you doin'?" asked Rick, turning around fully.

"Winning a bet," Carl responded.

"In your dreams," stated Michonne with a smile in her voice.

Rick stared at them, watching them in silence as they continued to laugh and joke. He felt himself relaxing, as difficult as it was at a time like this. Despite everything that had happened – from losing the prison to the Governor's attack to losing Hershel, and to losing Judith – he felt a smile tugging at his lips.

"I'm still on," Carl said, and as soon as he said it, he started to lose his balance.

Michonne laughed. "You spoke too soon, wise guy." Yet through sheer will he stayed upright, his feet staying on the edge of the tracks.

Rick walked towards them, slinging his bag behind him. "This might go on awhile," Rick said as he approached them.

The train track could go on forever, he thought. He had no idea how much further they had to go. They needed to find food and shelter, and at this rate they'd only walk a few more feet before nightfall.

He'd be content to let them be if he wasn't so worried about getting to Terminus. They had a destination to get to, and they were hungry and tired and dirty and… really all he wanted was to get them off the road and somewhere safe.

"We should speed things up," he finally said once he approached them.

"Yah you're right," agreed Michonne, looking down and concentrating so that she wouldn't fall, her arms spread. "Shouldn't be foolin' around." She was slightly breathless, and in another life Rick would have thought it was cute, the whole thing, but this world, this life… it didn't allow for _cute_.

Yet he couldn't help but appreciate the relationship that Michonne and Carl had. Carl had been so angry lately, and the only person that seemed able to reach him was Michonne, so for that Rick would always be grateful.

" _I can't be his best friend and his father_ ," Rick had told Michonne, and he had meant that. There was just no way. Carl didn't always _like_ him, but the boy was safe, and that's all Rick could ask for at the time being.

Michonne continued speaking, her voice still breathless, yet soft, and Rick snapped back to reality. He hadn't had the time to digest the fact that Michonne hardly ever raised her voice, yet he always heard her. Everything else always stopped when Michonne spoke. "We should probably— _Carl_!"

The shout was enough to startle the boy, and his head whipped towards her, but Rick felt a certain amount of pride in the fact that his son was able to stay on while Michonne lost her balance, clearly losing.

Carl smiled triumphantly as Michonne rolled her eyes at herself and her own antics. "I win," stated Carl proudly. Michonne mock glared at him, walking towards him. "Pay up." He held out his hand as Michonne eyed him, and Rick looked back and forth between them, wondering what the prize would be.

For some reason he couldn't help but chuckle lightly as Michonne unzipped her backpack. Carl kept his eyes on her as she produced a Cruncho bar and a Big Cat bar. Suddenly everything made sense. Rick stared at Michonne, still grinning.

"Is that really the last Big Cat?" Michonne didn't answer. She just held out both of the candy bars, discreetly trying to get him to choose the Cruncho. Carl's hand slowly extended towards the chocolate, edging towards the Cruncho but then continuing on towards the Big Cat.

"Oh, come on," whined Michonne.

"Hey, but you said winner's choice," Carl reminded her.

Michonne smirked, eyeing Carl up and down. "Go head, take it, it's yours." She tossed the Cruncho back into her bag. "You won it, fair and square."

Rick continued to smile as he looked at Michonne. He gazed at Carl just in time to see his son break off a piece and hand it out to Michonne.

She hesitated at first, as if she was truly going to let him enjoy his dessert, and for a second Rick thought she would refuse.

"Come on, we always share," Carl told her.

For the briefest of moments Michonne looked touched. She looked at Carl and gave him a smile. "Fork it over," said Michonne softly. Carl handed the piece of chocolate to her and Michonne grasped it.

Again, Rick found himself laughing as he glanced at Michonne. He turned around and the three of them started walking at a normal pace again.

He didn't know what lied ahead for them. He wasn't sure what would come next. Hopefully they would find some sort of refuge at Terminus. Maybe the rest of their people would be there. He didn't know what the future held.

What he did know, was right now, at this moment in time, on these train tracks, all felt all right.


	24. With This Ring

A/N: I AM CHANGING MY FANFICTION NAME! I will no longer be "thamockingjayandpeeta" but I will be changing my name to "idcabtthisish" (this name is a joke of sorts, I definitely obviously care about this shit LMAO). SO when you see a new chapter or a message from me, IT IS ME haha. Don't be alarmed.

* * *

 _Saw this on Facebook: what if Rick made Michonne a wedding ring in Eugene's bullet factory. YES PLEASE! Same Universe as "A New Beginning" (chapter 14) and "Being a Big Sister" (chapter 20)._

 **WITH THIS RING**

 **Rated T**

Rick wiped the sweat from his brow and then continued to pound away. He would be finished pretty soon. It hadn't been easy, it had been risky, but he figured it'd be worth it.

 _She_ was worth it.

He never thought he'd ever do something like this.

Especially this way.

Yet he found himself thinking that this was more rewarding than walking into a store and grabbing which one he wanted. It was the greatest and sweetest victory, to be able to do this. It was more personable; it was more personal this way.

His blood, sweat, and tears went into this, and she deserved that from him.

She deserved his soul.

He continued pummeling away, his mind wandering. He was in a particularly good mood, so he found himself particularly thankful for Eugene, and his genius-like mind.

He'd never have known how to make bullets, nor would he even be here right now, if it wasn't for that man.

He was a good man.

They were _all_ good men.

And Carl was shaping up and turning into one of those good men.

It was strange, the way time was flying by. One minute he was a twelve-year-old boy, and now he was fifteen going on twenty-one. Rick didn't even remember raising him.

Rick chuckled as he thought about the conversation he had had with him a few months ago, the _fear_ he'd felt in the pit of his stomach, of having this conversation with him. He'd actually lost sleep over it, tossing and turning, worried about how Carl would take it.

He'd actually talked to Judith first. Carl was somewhere with Enid, being a teenager, and Michonne was on watch, and he'd purposely set out a moment for him to have some alone time with his daughter.

Their talk didn't even take long. She nodded and giggled and babbled to every question. She clapped and kissed him, seemingly giving him her blessing.

Rick could only hope Carl would do the same.

It took him another week to finally talk to Carl. He didn't want raise any of Michonne's suspicions, they rarely had secret conversations with Carl anymore. Everything was a decision they made together, for her to see Rick and Carl huddled up in a corner would cause her eyebrow to raise and for her gaze to pierce his until he confessed whatever secrets he might have had.

He couldn't hide anything from her.

Except this. This he could hide.

But he couldn't hide this from Carl.

He had waited until Michonne was on watch before telling Carl he wanted and needed help taking stock of the armory. Carl didn't seem to think anything of it, he had shrugged and the two of them made their way over. Then Rick thought better of it – if Carl reacted angrily, maybe the place that housed so many weapons wasn't the best way to go.

He instead waited until it was Carl's turn to take watch. He walked up to the guard post and the two of them stood there in silence for a few moments.

"Dad, why don't you just tell me what's wrong?" asked Carl. Rick turned and looked at him, but was too surprised to say anything. "Is this about Michonne?"

Rick sighed and nodded. "Yah, it is."

"You overheard me and Enid talking, didn't you? About me wanting to call her Mom? Dad, no one will ever take the place of my _real_ Mom, but Michonne's been like a mother to me for almost two years, and it's only fitting. It feels right. It doesn't mean I've forgotten Mom, it's just… life is different now."

Rick just blinked at him. "You wanna call Michonne 'Mom?'"

Now it was Carl's turn to blink at his father. "You didn't hear me talking to Enid the other day?" Rick shook his head, and Carl took a deep breath, looking out into the woods. "You're not… gonna break up with her or anything are you? I thought you two were happy. I mean I'm older now, you and Mom were miserable, I get that now. It's not like that with you and Michonne."

"No, it's not," Rick assured Carl.

Carl looked at him. "It's not?" Rick shook his head. "Good. Because I didn't know how to tell you that I wanted to live with Michonne." Rick chuckled. "Well if you didn't overhear me talking to Enid about calling Michonne Mom, and you aren't gonna break up with her… what is it you need to talk to me about?"

Rick stared at Carl for a few seconds. "I wanted to talk to you because… I wanna marry her."

Carl just stared. "When'd you decide this?"

Rick shrugged, even though he had a real answer. He just didn't think his son would appreciate knowing that it'd been after him and Michonne had made love, and he was watching her sleep, watching the way her chest rose and fell, the way her hair cascaded over her shoulder, the way her fingers rested on his chest, right above his heartbeat… It was everything, _she_ was everything in that moment, and it literally took his breath away, he literally had shortness of breath when it hit him, how incredible Michonne was, and how much she meant to him.

It overwhelmed him, and he figured the only logical thing to do was to marry her.

"I've been thinkin' about it for a while," was all he finally said.

Carl smiled. "Sometimes it's uncanny how alike we are. Right when I'm ready to call her Mom, you're ready to make her your wife. I think it's pretty fitting."

Rick looked at his son, and then nodded. "Yah, it is."

"Were you worried I wouldn't agree?"

"I was worried you wouldn't understand. Lori was…" Rick chose his words carefully. "I loved your mother, Carl—"

"I know you did. But not like you love Michonne. It's okay. She's good for you, and you're good for her. I'm happy for you. I'm happy for _us_."

Rick squeezed Carl's shoulder, pulling him in for a hug. "When the hell did you grow up?"

"Sometimes I ask myself that," laughed Carl.

"Yah, well… don't say anything, to _anyone_. I won't even tell you what I have planned, because Michonne'll get it outta you. It'll take me a while to ask her, so jus'… act normal."

Carl nodded. "I will."

Rick nodded and left Carl to continue keeping watch.

That had been weeks ago, and now… with this last hammer… Rick was finally done making her engagement ring. He'd been working around the clock, sneaking into the compound and using the instructions from Eugene.

It was hard work, but it'd be worth it.

If she said yes.

He had a feeling she would.

He looked at the ring, smiling. It wasn't much, just a simple double band, but it was perfect, because it was a symbol of his love for her. It was something to prove that he was with her, the same way she was always with him.

Sliding the ring carefully in his pocket, Rick cleaned up all evidence of him being there, and left.

The night was pitch black, the air cool. He had his knife and his hatchet, taking special care to listen out for walkers. There had been a few instances over the past several weeks where he'd run into walkers, but nothing he couldn't handle. Most of the time he tried to outrun them because he didn't want to get blood on himself – that would have been a dead giveaway that he was outside of the walls, and the whole point was to keep this secret.

He ran into a few walkers, but he snuck around them and then made his way passed them. When a walker came out of nowhere Rick started and had no choice but to stab it, its blood splattering all over his shirt and face.

Damn it.

He wiped his face off and kept walking, a frown now on his face. His last night having to sneak out and he would have to show up to the gates all bloodied.

Fortunately, he had a plan for that.

Taking out the flashlight from his back pocket he clicked it on and off twice, shining towards Sasha. A few seconds later the gate was opening and he nodded at the guard, and then made his way up to the guard post.

Sasha eyed him, but they'd been through this enough to know not to ask any questions. She wouldn't get an answer.

Didn't stop her from commenting, though.

"If it wasn't the middle of an apocalypse, and if I didn't happen to know that there were no other neighborhoods nearby, and if I didn't know that you knew Michonne would kill you, I'd think you were cheating on her with the hours you've been keeping."

Rick just stared at her, his eyebrow raised, as he reached for the towel and white shirt he'd placed up there. He wiped the blood from his face and then changed his shirt.

"Where's Michonne?" asked Rick.

"Haven't seen her since dinner," Sasha replied. Rick frowned. "I know, it's not like her."

With a sinking feeling Rick made his way to the house. It was quiet, and still, so Rick figured they were all in bed. It was still rather early for Michonne to be asleep, but sure enough, when he reached the bedroom, she was in bed.

He took off his clothes and slipped quietly into bed.

Michonne shifted and crawled over to him. She reached out to him, her voice soft. "Where have you been?"

"Everywhere," he responded evasively, kissing her softly.

"If you think I don't know you're leaving the community, you're insane." Rick looked at her. "The air's difference when you're not here. The spirit is different. You've been sneaking around for weeks. Care to tell me why?"

Rick caressed her cheek. "I can promise you that you'll find out in a little while," was all he said.

She searched his eyes for several moments. "Okay."

…

"She'll be here any minute," Rick called.

"Dad, I know," stated Carl as he made his way downstairs. "Relax." He carried Judith in his arms and Rick looked up from placing the vase of flowers on the table. "Relax. She's gonna say yes."

Rick took a deep breath, nodding. He was nervous, and damn near snapping at everyone. "Sorry." Carl walked up to him and Rick bent down and kissed Judith. "I'll see you guys later."

Carl nodded, Judith waved goodbye, and then the two of them left. Rick took another deep breath, trying to calm his shaken nerves, and barely succeeded once Michonne walked in.

She took him in, her eyes taking in the flowers on the table, and the fact that Rick was clean.

"Well this explains why you're not on watch," Michonne stated, closing the door softly behind her. "What's all this?"

"You… wanted to know where I've been goin' when I leave the community."

Michonne walked up to him, her eyebrow arched. "You've been picking flowers?"

Rick laughed. "Somethin' like that."

"You've been distant, sneaking out… coming home late, leaving early. And now you're bringing me flowers."

"You sound like Sasha now. She basically accused me of cheating on you."

"Sasha knew you were sneaking out?"

"Someone had to know. Didn't wanna get shot down." Michonne stared at him. "I've been at the compound."

"You've been making bullets?"

"Close, but not quite."

He'd thought of a million different ways to ask her. Should he get down on one knee? Tell her how much he loved her? Profess everything she meant to him? Explain how he wouldn't be here without her? He had plans to do all of the above, after dinner.

In the end he just reached into his pocket and produced the ring, holding it in front of her.

She was surprised. Truly, genuinely surprised. He rarely caught her off guard.

"I don't know how much longer we have together. There are threats and danger everywhere, all the time. I jus' know, that whatever happens, for however long I have left, I want you by my side, forever. So…." Rick paused and looked at her. "Will you?"

Michonne looked at Rick, suddenly overcome with emotions. She had always wanted to get married. She and Mike were too young, though, they had thought they had forever to do that sort of thing, so she didn't rush to get married after having Andre.

Life was different now, and she didn't care how young or old she was.

"Yes," she finally said, her eyes welling with tears.

He smiled, slipping the ring on her finger.

Accepting this ring was proof that she really would always be with him.

* * *

A/N: Had the HARDEST time picturing how Rick would propose, so I went with this. I figure there will be other proposal one-shots so I could explore this more. No biggie.


	25. Unfamiliar Familiarity

_Prompt—"I have another prompt...Why not let Rick and Jessie really happen, but with a twist. Let someone take notice of Michonne, and see how it effect Rick..someone other that the usual characters." –ShunnieIsFine_

DON'T SHOOT THE MESSENGER LMAO. I know how a lot of you feel about Ressie, I'm right there with you. I'm just responding to the prompt LMAO.

 _This is SO weird LOL but I went with Scott as Michonne's love interest, who is, of course, Sonequa Martin-Green (Sasha's) real-life husband LMAO. I need to stay in character because IT'S JUST FREAKING WEIRD hahaha. Most of this one-shot takes place during "Thank You" and the events before that episode._

 **UNFAMILIAR FAMILIARITY**

 **Rated T**

Rick stared at his group, but no one said a word. "I was out there," he continued. "I saw it. Tons and tons of walkers. We have to figure out a plan to move them away from the town, or else this place is at risk."

"The place you didn't even want to be at a week ago," stated Michonne.

"Well we're here now," Rick said, his voice slightly edgy.

"Some of us have always been here," stated Glenn, an edge to his own voice.

Rick took a deep breath. So they were still mad at him. That was understandable. He'd acted like a jackass from the second they'd arrived in Alexandria. He got that. But Deanna had left him in charge.

"Look, personal feelings aside, we need to do this. We need to call a town meeting, and let these people know that this community is at risk with all those walkers. The trap won't hold."

He glanced at all of them, but stared at Michonne. She stared back, and for the first time in a long time, he couldn't read her. She had closed herself off to him – well hell, it wouldn't be the first time someone had done that – but eventually she gave him a single nod.

"I'll spread the word about the meeting," suggested Morgan, and Rick nodded again.

"Anything else?" Rick asked.

"There are two other residents we didn't know about," exclaimed Eugene. "Heath and Scott. They're runners, apparently, and got back a little earlier today. Frankly I didn't wanna let 'em in but they made it pretty obvious they were from this community."

Rick glanced at Michonne. She stood up. "I'll check them out."

Without so much as a backwards glance, she was gone.

…

Michonne saw Scott – or at least she assumed it was Scott, he was someone she hadn't seen before, and she'd already met all the other residents; plus, he had what was a large bag of supplies in his hand – inside of Olivia's garage.

"Hey," she said.

He turned around and faced her, his eyebrows raised, a final jar of something in his hand. "You must be on the new members," he said with a soft smile.

"How could you tell?"

"I've never seen you before, and because you're someone I'd have remembered if I had." She blinked at him. "Scott." He held out his hand.

It was such a rare gesture in this world that she forgot what that was like.

"Michonne," she responded shaking it. "Eugene told us that you and Heath were back. I just met him, and he told me where to find you. I just wanted to introduce myself."

"You mean you wanted to check me out, probably like you've done with the rest of us." He nodded. "Understandable. I was the same way when I was brought in, and I came in at the beginning. It's obvious you've been out there a while."

She cocked her head to the side. "How so?"

He gave her a soft smile. "Your eyes? They've seen war." He placed the last jar on the shelf and grabbed his bag. "I'm sure I'll see you around. Until then, take care."

For some reason she was slightly speechless as she watched him go.

…

Breathing heavily Michonne walked through the forest, Scott next to her, Heath and Glenn behind her, along with a few others. The entire plan had gone to shit the minute those walkers broke free, and now there was a herd of walkers heading towards Alexandria because of some damn horn that wouldn't shut up.

Glenn told them that they were twenty minutes walking distance from home, and Michonne told them all to keep up the pace. Heath mentioned if they didn't then that would be it, and Michonne shot him a look.

"We're moving in the same direction everything else is," Scott pointed out. "We're gonna catch up to something."

"We're gonna catch up to a lot of things," corrected Michonne. "And we're gonna end them. We have no choice. We gotta keep going forward." He looked at her but she kept her eyes straight ahead. She knew she could talk to him like that, be real with him. He was different than most of the other Alexandrians, which she'd found out from random conversation throughout their time in the safe-zone.

He always seemed to pop up whenever she was around.

She had yet to decide if that bothered her or not.

A small herd of walkers up ahead distracted her. Her and Glenn started slaying them, and then Heath and Scott followed behind.

They were close to each other when she heard the gunfire, and then Scott went down.

It all went to shit from that moment on. Sturgees ran away like a coward after shooting Scott and then David got bit.

They took refuge in a small town, it was the only thing they could think to do, and made their way into an abandoned pet store. After sweeping the place and Glenn and Nicholas devising a plan, Michonne approached Scott.

"Let's look at the leg," she stated softly. He nodded and sat down and she ripped open the bottom of his pants, checking out his wound. She kept her face blank as she wrapped it with a cloth bandage.

"Annie, I'm gonna figure out a crutch for you," Heath said.

"Just leave me."

Michonne looked at her.

" _What_?" asked Heath.

"I'm slowing you down. We're gonna hit more roamers. It's that simple. Leave me."

"Leave us," Scott agreed, and Michonne looked at him.

Heath looked between them both. " _No_."

"It's stupid for you guys to wait on me," said Scott. He glanced at Michonne but then his eyes rested back on Heath. "We'll all go down. Come on, man. Wake up." Heath turned away. "You don't do it now, you'll do it out there. We get into trouble again, you run. And you don't look back."

"No, if we go, we go together," Heath interrupted. "We got each other's back, just like always. We don't leave people behind." He stared them down and then turned to Michonne. "Not us."

Michonne glared back at him. "No one is leaving anyone behind." She stared at all of them to let them know she was serious, and then she looked back at Heath.

Turning away from her he rose. "I'll find something for you, Annie."

Scott watched him go and then turned his attention back to Michonne. She met his gaze and then got up and followed Heath.

They tried to wait for Glenn, until they started hearing the gunfire back in Alexandria. The plan was to keep quiet until the walkers passed, and it worked, for awhile, until those two damn walkers ended up being in the closet.

And then the herd arrived.

They fought their way out, but they lost Annie. The rest of them ran, as fast as they could with Scott's bad leg, and they made their way down an alley where they had to climb over a fence. Michonne made sure that Heath and Scott were over the fence and she and David started climbing next.

David didn't make it. He got pulled down by the walkers.

Taking a deep breath Michonne grabbed Scott and wrapped one of his arms around her neck, Heath doing the same on the other side.

Together, they made their way home.

…

Michonne watched as Denise attempted to patch Scott up, her heart pounding softly. Heath had already gone back home after being looked over by Denise. Scott groaned in pain.

"I'll try and save your life," and if Denise thought that that would reassure Scott, she was wrong.

"You _will_ ," Michonne said, and both Denise and Scott stared at her. She kept her gaze on Denise, though, until the doctor nodded and left the room. Finally, she turned to him.

"Thank you," whispered Scott, clearly in pain.

"For what?"

He took a deep breath, grimacing, as if talking hurt. "For risking your life to save mine. And Heath's. You didn't have to. You _were_ told to get back by any means necessary."

Michonne sighed. "Not everybody thinks like that."

"You mean like him."

Michonne remained silent. Rick was in a dark place, yes, but she would not betray him, not when the residents' trust was so low. "You can't judge us as one group," she finally said. "We are all different individuals. I was never going to leave you."

He stared at her for a long time and then nodded.

And then in a strange yet bold move, he reached out and slipped his hand into hers.

For reasons beyond her control, she kept her hand in his until he drifted off to sleep.

…

Rick was standing on the porch when the front door opened. He turned around to find Michonne with a book in her hand and a backpack on her back.

"Goin' somewhere?" asked Rick.

"To the infirmary," Michonne stated without shame.

Rick raised his eyebrows. "Who's there? One of _our_ people?" Panic started to sweep in almost immediately.

Michonne rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go see Scott, who, contrary to what you may believe, _is_ one our people now." She paused and stepped closer to him. "They're all our people. The sooner you get that through your head, the better off we'll be."

Rick blinked at her, stepping back and then turning away from her. "Scott, huh?" Rick paused. "He likes you?"

Michonne scoffed. "You make it sound so juvenile."

"Well he doesn't know you," countered Rick. _Not like me_. The thought was in and out of his head so fleetingly that he wasn't even sure he'd actually thought it.

"He knows as much about me as Jessie knows about you, or as you know about Jessie."

That shut Rick up. He had no response to that, and apparently Michonne hadn't expected one. She started to walk off and he watched her go, not all sure why he was bothered.

He just felt this strange feeling, in the pit of hi s stomach. It felt foreign, yet familiar, like he had felt it before, but hadn't for a long time. His stomach was tied and he found it hard to breathe. Unfamiliar, yet familiar.

It hit him, full in the gut, the first time he'd felt like this, the _only_ time he'd felt like this: finding out about Shane and Lori.

It was possessiveness taking over him, but he knew he had no right to feel that way, so he pushed the thought as far from his mind as he could.

…

In the infirmary Michonne found Denise hovering over an unconscious Scott.

"He's getting worse," Denise said, her voice wavering.

Michonne took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. "You'll figure it out. You will. You have to."

"What if I can't?"

"Do you think I woke up one day and knew how to use my katana? Do you think Morgan woke up one day and knew how to practice Aikido? Nothing any of us do is easy. You _can_ do this, Denise. You can save him. You're just going to have to learn how." She laid a reassuring hand on Denise's shoulder and left.

This is why she didn't hope, Michonne realized as she left. Because the let down was too great. She hadn't had time to think about basic human needs like human contact and relationships.

She wasn't sure she was ready for that, but it was certainly nice to have options. That's what Alexandria offered them: options. That's what _Scott_ offered _her_.

And if he ended up being okay – if they all ended up being okay – maybe she'd make him an option.

* * *

A/N: Wasn't exactly a Richonne fic in my mind, but I took special care to add that possessiveness feeling inside of Rick. Deep down, I think he knows it's Michonne, he just needed someone to open that door for him again. That's what Jessie was. People have claimed that Michonne is a rebound, but technically, Jessie was.

Hope you enjoyed.


	26. Earning Her Keep

_Consider this a missing scene sometime after "Clear" and before "The Sorrowful Life." When Rick tells Hershel about the Governor's desire to have Michonne, Hershel says she's earned her keep. Well… we didn't get to see how. I had a few things in mind._

 **EARNING HER KEEP**

 **Rated T**

Michonne woke up, her eyes fluttering open, and she immediately sat up. It was dark but she knew every inch of her cell, so it wasn't difficult to rummage around and find her shoes. She put them on and changed out her shirt, switching to one with long sleeves. Then she slid on her jacket, grabbed her sword and her sculptured cat, and made her way outside.

It was time for her to keep watch.

She made her way to the guard post, climbing up carefully so she wouldn't drop her prized possession, her sword on her back. Up at the top she smiled softly at Maggie, who was wrapped around a blanket.

"It's chilly tonight," commented the young girl.

"That it is," Michonne agreed with a small smile. Maggie handed her the blanket and Michonne took it, grateful. Maggie handed Michonne the gun and the pair of binoculars as well.

"See you tomorrow."

"Night."

Michonne watched her go and settled the blanket around her shoulders. She kept her cat next to her. It provided a little bit of color in a world that was steadily getting darker and darker.

It didn't take long for Michonne to hear a pair of heavy feet climbing up. She refrained from rolling her eyes, and didn't look at him as he made his way next to her.

"Couldn't sleep," sighed Rick heavily.

Michonne continued to stare ahead. "You can never sleep when it's my turn to keep watch." She took special care to make sure her voice wasn't accusatory. She just stated a fact.

"I really can't sleep tonight," he told her after a pregnant pause. "There's a lot on my mind."

"Your meeting with the Governor?" He hadn't talked to her about it, and she admitted to herself that she was a little disappointed. If anyone shared Rick's hatred for the Governor, it was her. She'd seen him talking to Hershel, and Rick and Daryl had been huddled up more than ever, but it was what it was. She hadn't earned her keep here yet, apparently, despite him allowing her to stay.

Rick nodded. "Yah."

"Whatever happens… I'm with you."

Rick stared at her for a long time and then let out a slow sigh. He was troubled, she realized.

"You sure about that?" he asked, his southern drawl thicker than ever.

Michonne shook her head and stared back to the field. "I get it. You don't trust me yet. Doesn't surprise me. Your family is here. These people… they look at you to lead them, and you can't put their lives in my hands. It's why you won't tell me about the meeting with Governor. It's why you come up here every single time it's my turn to keep watch, to try and keep an eye on me, make sure I'm doing what you think I'm doing. You're afraid if there's an attack I wouldn't say anything, that I'd save myself and leave you all to die."

Now Michonne turned back to face him. "But that is bullshit, Rick. I am _trying_. It didn't take me long to see you guys were good people. I'm _trying_. Everyone has to earn their keep here, that's what I was told, so I wash dishes, I clean the prison, I go on runs, and I keep watch, because I'm trying to prove to you that _I am with you_."

He stared back at her, incapable of saying anything, but it seemed as if she wasn't expecting him to respond.

"You can keep watch, since clearly I'm not to be trusted." She handed him the gun, nearly slamming it into his chest. "Goodnight, Rick."

And just like that, she was gone.

He watched her go in silence, and Hershel's words echoed in his head, " _She's earned her keep_."

She had, he knew she had, but this was his family at stake….

He sighed, clutching the rifle in his hand, and stared out into the field.

…

Later on that same day Rick ran to the gate and opened it, staring at the group of people in the car: Daryl, Glenn, and Michonne. He ran to meet up with them as the truck came to a halt. Glenn hopped out while Daryl jumped from the bed of the trunk.

"Try to drive up to the gate again, maybe some blown tires will stop them," Glenn stated.

"That's a good idea," said Rick, impressed.

"Yah, it was Michonne's," Daryl said. Rick stared ahead, glancing at Daryl, before finally meeting Michonne's eyes.

"We don't gotta win," she told him with a soft smile, and it was almost like what went down at the watch post never even happened. "We just have to make their getting at us more trouble than its worth."

At that moment Maggie and Carl came up to them. After sharing a brief glance, Rick and Daryl nodded at each other, and they all headed off.

A little while later, when he was gathering that blue cable wire, he was convinced that he could do this. He was convinced that despite the fact that she _was_ earing her keep, he could give her to the Governor to protect these people who had become his family.

She hadn't earned that title, or that right, yet.

" _Just ain't us, man_." Rick ignored Daryl's words and glanced up.

He froze as he noticed Lori.

Lori, who would kick his ass all around this prison if she were here and knew what it is he wanted to do.

The way he wanted to tie up a woman who might have had her fair share of issues – like they all did – but was doing what she could to get him to trust her.

This was the same woman who Carl had said was one of them.

Rick continued to stare at Lori, and then, suddenly disgusted with himself, unwrapped the blue cord from around his wrist and threw it back on the ground.

Both angry and annoyed with himself he stood up and made his way inside the prison. Inside he could faintly hear Hershel in the background, more than likely reading to Beth and Maggie.

He was headed to find Daryl, to tell him that he wouldn't go through with the plan, but Hershel called out to him.

"Rick!" He turned and looked at Hershel. "What you're about to do—"

"I can't," Rick stated firmly. It was more than that, though, he realized. "I won't."

He _wouldn't_. If he headed down this path, there would be no coming back from it.

He was still on the fence if she was one of them, but she was working her way up. Carl, Carol, Beth, Maggie… they had started to grow attached. In due time he might too.

And even if she wasn't fully one of them yet, she had done enough to earn her her right to be defended.

She'd earned her keep.

* * *

 _A/N:_ The 'I'm with you' line Michonne says came out of nowhere, and what I've always loved about Michonne stating that to Rick in "Conqueror" is that she says she's STILL with Rick…. So it got me to thinking, what if she'd said it before? I think that's been in my subconscious for a while, and what better place to put it than in this timeframe?


	27. This Is for the Cool

_Just a one shot of a few times Michonne COULD have (and maybe even should have) gone off on Rick, but kept her cool. Title is taken from the amazing artist that Babyface (guess I'm showing my age =] )_

 _NOT a song fic, but I wanted to post a few lyrics so you can understand the title, for those of you who are too young to know what this song is LOL._

 _For every argument that we've experienced_

 _It's nice to know that you've remained composed_

 _And I wanna thank you for the chill in you_

 _Especially for you being so cool_

 _This for the cool in you_

 **THIS IS FOR THE COOL**

 **Rated T**

Michonne took a deep breath as Rick pointed his gun at her.

"Turn around," Rick said coldly. " _Turn around_."

With her hands out Michonne turned around, willing herself to keep calm as Rick slid her sword out of its case.

Rick wasn't at his best right now, anyone could see that. She needed to be patient, he didn't fully trust her, and she couldn't blame him. She _had_ just disappeared and had attempted to assassinate the Governor.

"Get what you came for?"

Michonne remained silent, willing herself to keep her attitude in check. Her anger would only make the situation worse, so she swallowed the fact that he was borderline taunting her.

She would make him see.

He needed her.

The same as she needed him.

…

Michonne looked around, staring at the bullets on the ground. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but this wasn't it. She knew Rick was upset, and the way he was snapping at her – even more harshly than usual – proved that.

Upset or not, his tone was slowly starting to rub her the wrong way.

Maybe she shouldn't have made the comment about them needing the guns that were here. Still, the question set her teeth on edge.

" _Do you have a problem with that approach_?"

Michonne turned to him warily, breathing in deeply, and stared at him.

He would learn to stop talking to her like that, she vowed.

Either she could tell him, or she could kill him with kindness. She'd seen the way he was with his group: kind, gentle, patient. She wasn't a part of the group yet. She _wanted_ to be. She _needed_ to be. But she hadn't had a chance to make it that yet. She hadn't won him over. The others she was working on, but Rick was distant, grieving, and not ready to open up to anyone else yet.

She stared into those shockingly blue eyes, noting his body was tense. He was probably itching for some action.

Michonne wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"No, Rick," she stated softly. "I don't have a problem." She approached him and handed him the loan bullet she'd found, keeping her eyes on him until she walked away.

She could feel his eyes on her the entire time.

…

Michonne ignored the slight pounding in her head as she listened to Merle explain about the Governor's offer. So that's why Rick hadn't confided in her. She had thought things were finally changing between them, had thought that he was more open to her existence ever since their run, but after his meeting with Governor, he was distant again.

It all made sense now.

The thought that he wouldn't have gone through with it didn't calm her. Not immediately, and not at first. A part of her felt betrayed. Granted she understood that she wasn't one of them yet, but she knew he wouldn't have even thought about it had it been anyone else.

She was earning her keep, she had been working hard to prove that she belonged there, and he had somewhat betrayed her.

Still, when it came to approaching him, when it came to truly seeing him face to face, understanding seemed to seep its way through her veins.

She got it. He _had_ to think about it.

Michonne watched as Rick came down the stairs, barely able to look at her, let alone live with himself. Sure, she probably could have gone off. Maybe even should have.

But she couldn't.

And she wouldn't.

"The deal the Governor offered about me – you had to think about it." Saying it eased some of the tension from her body, and she saw the shock on his face at her words. "You had to. I get it."

He approached her, avoiding eye contact for several moments, most likely trying to get his thoughts together. He stuck his hand in his pocket and nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I came real close."

"But you didn't." She was unaware of the words coming from her mouth, but they felt right. She was not going to judge him based off of one bad decision, even if that decision had affected her. "I never thanked you," she continued.

He stared at her, even more surprised than he'd been a few seconds ago. "For what?" The cell door closed behind him and Michonne chanced a glance at Rick.

"For getting me out there, that day." She stared at him as he walked towards her, and they stared at each other. "Taking me in."

"Well if you didn't have that baby formula, I wouldn't have" he said. She nearly rolled her eyes. He seemed hell bent on making everything difficult between them, but she would try just as hard to make him see.

"You could have just taken the formula." She gazed at him, making sure he understood that he needed to admit it, for herself, and for himself. It was the only way they could work.

"Well, it must've been somethin' else, then."

Yah. It certainly was something else, all right.

…

Michonne stared at Rick, noting the broken man before her, and silently tossed her jacket onto the bed.

"You think I'd try to stop you?" asked Michonne quietly.

Rick looked at her, and she could see him struggling with how to answer. There were probably a thousand different emotions running through his head, the same as there was for her.

She _trusted_ him.

She would have been a fool to not know something was going on. She _knew_ Rick. She did. She could tell something was off, even if she hadn't known what.

He would tell her when he was ready.

It hurt that he didn't tell her, that she had had to find out like this.

"Well you did hit me over the head." She could tell he had been trying to lighten the mood, and maybe at one point it would have been okay, but not now.

It was too much shit going on.

"That was for you," responded Michonne with an edge. "Not them." He was losing her. She wasn't sure if he could tell or not, but if he didn't get his act together… they would lose each other. She couldn't let that happen. She'd worked too hard to get to this place with him.

They would get through this, if she could remain calm. If she could swallow the betrayal she felt deep in her bones at the thought of him lying to her.

He approached her, and she could see the weight on his shoulders. "I was afraid you'd talk me out of it," he told her as he stared into her eyes, and she stared back. "You could've."

Her gaze softened as his words hit her. He attempted to hand her the gun.

"We don't need them here. I don't need my sword." She stepped a little closer to him. "I think you can find a way." He looked around, and it was clear he didn't believe her, so she amended her statement. " _We_ can find a way."

They _had_ to, and he needed to understand that. Yelling and screaming and demanding that he understand that wouldn't help. She had to remain focused, keep her cool, otherwise he'd have the ability to resent her _if_ things ever went badly.

If she was a pro at anything by now, it was remaining collected, calm, and cool. Tonight wouldn't be any different.

She looked at him, wondering how best to help this man that was clearly losing his grip on reality. He had helped her in so many ways, and somehow, some way she vowed to help him in return. "And if we don't…" Michonne gave him a genuine and soft smile. "I'm still with you."

His eyes seemed truly startled for a second, and then he masked it away. He looked down, and then tried to hand the gun over to her. She enclosed her hand over his and the gun and placed it down at his side, letting him know her stance.

She meant it: she was with him. She'd _always_ be with him.

She just had to always keep her cool.

* * *

A/N: In writing this I realized the last time Richonne had genuine conflict before ASZ was in season 3. That's CRAZY. Well not really. I mean they were destined for each other LOL but I was like "Damn there ain't more conflict to write about?" And there wasn't! I love them.


	28. What's in a Name

_In honor of Mother's Day (Happy Mother's Day to all the Moms out there, including Michonne): How/when/where/why Carl makes the decision to call Michonne Mom_.

 **WHAT'S IN A NAME**

 **Rated T**

Carl sat on his bed, his back against the headboard, and flipped through his comics. Enid sat next to him, munching on some walnuts. The two of them sat in silence, Carl in his own world, Enid in her own.

"Do you ever miss her?" asked Enid, seemingly out of the blue.

"Who?" Carl asked absentmindedly, flipping to the next page.

"Your mom."

Carl froze and then stared at Enid with his good eye. " _What_?"

Enid shrugged and sighed. "I don't know. I'm just thinking about my own mother, I guess."

"Why?" The question was out of his mouth before he could think better of it, and he cringed inside the minute he asked it.

" _Why_?" repeated Enid incredulously.

"I didn't mean like that," Carl stated quickly.

Enid glared at him and then shook her head. "It doesn't matter. You don't get it. You have someone in place of your mother."

Carl blinked slowly at Enid, staying silent. It wasn't that he didn't agree. It was just that he hadn't really thought about it. Michonne was family. He wasn't sure when it happened – maybe during one of those days when they were at the prison, when she let him learn how to use her sword – or maybe it was when she found them, after the prison fell.

He didn't have an exact date on when Michonne became a mother to him, but Enid was right.

"Well so do you," said Carl. Enid stared at him. "Maggie cares about you. A lot."

"Maggie has Hershel."

"What is your deal? You don't think she can love you and her son?"

"Like I said, you just don't get it." Enid started to get up, gathering her things. "It worked out for you."

"Hey, I _killed_ my mother—"

"So that she wouldn't Turn," snapped out Enid.

"You think that made it easier?"

"No. I think you've forgotten what it's like to miss her because your dad's in love with Michonne and she's tucking you in every night."

Carl stood up and glared at Enid. "I think about my mother every single time I see my sister. You're jealous of me and you don't even have to be. You've got someone trying to be a mother figure. If you stop playing the victim and let somebody in for once, you could see how much Maggie cares about you."

Enid looked like she was going to explode, and then, she sat back down on the bed, her back to Carl.

"How did you let Michonne in?" Her voice was soft, and filled with silent tears.

Carl sighed and walked around to Enid. "I don't know. She… _cared_ when I felt no one else did. My dad… my dad was grieving the loss of my mom and he kind of neglected me for a minute. He didn't mean to, it just happened. And then he was caught up in being a leader that he kind of forgot how to be a dad. I didn't make it easy. I was cold and cruel and pushed him away. I tried to do the same to Michonne, but she pushed back."

"Kind of like Maggie does."

"Exactly like Maggie does."

Enid remained quiet for a while. "Do you think you'll ever call her Mom?"

"Yah, I do," Carl said without hesitation. He thought of the way he'd told her that he'd put her down if he needed to, that he'd kill her before she Turned. He'd meant that, and it was something he'd done for his own mother, so he thought that spoke for itself. "I'm not sure when, but some day."

"I don't know if I can call Maggie that."

"You don't have to. That's your decision to make. But letting someone else in… I mean… don't you think that's what your mother would have wanted?"

"I don't know; I can't actually answer that. She's dead." Her voice had taken on an edge that had Carl barely refraining from rolling his eyes.

"Look, at the end of the day, I love Michonne like my mother. In essence she _is_ my mother. So yah, I'll call her Mom one day, because she deserves that title. That's _my_ choice. It doesn't have to be yours. But the route you're going… you're setting up to be lonely, and for a long time. I know someone who claimed to be gone for a long time. It took a lot for her to come back. I don't want that to be you. I bet if you tried, it wouldn't even be that hard to let Maggie in."

Enid looked at him for several minutes and finally stood up again. "I'll think about it. What's in a name? It's stupid anyway." With those words she grabbed her backpack and left.

Carl let her go, frowning.

Mom was an important name for a woman, and Michonne had earned that title. It wasn't stupid. So what was in a name?

When it came to Mom, everything.

* * *

A/N: That "it worked out for you" line Enid says to Carl is a Sasha line that she states to Michonne. I thought it fit here. It was a nice little call back if I do say so myself LOL.

SPOILER NOTE DOWN BELOW. STOP READING HERE.

Also, I'm under the assumption that Enid is taking Comic Sophia's role and will be a daughter figure to Maggie and move to Hilltop with her, so for the sake of that storyline, let's say this takes place before Lucille happens.


	29. Tired of Pretending

_Prompt – "The same old Lori or not, is still alive at the prison, Alexandria or in an AU, AND Michonne comes into the picture, catches Rick eye stealing his heart in the process!" -ShunnieIsFine_

 _Struggled with this for all but two point five seconds, because I don't see Rick as being unfaithful. Then the story started developing. Enjoy!_

 _For the sake of the story, let's just say this is sometime before the Governor destroys our lives and goes after the prison but after the Michonne/Judith scene in "Infected." Circumstances are not as bad and Rick's not in crazy town. We'll say Meryl was still killed and Michonne was still taken._

 **TIRED OF PRETENDING**

 **Rated T**

Michonne walked up to Carl's cell just in time to see Rick putting Judith down. He looked up as he heard her coming and gave her a rare smile that she returned. He motioned for her to come in.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Michonne said softly. "I was hoping to catch Carl before he went to bed. I was hoping he was done with a few of those old comics."

"He went up to say goodnight to Lori," stated Rick and Judith cooed. Michonne walked up to the crib and stared down at Judith. She was such a cute little thing. "He'll back in a few minutes, I'm sure."

Michonne didn't respond, just kept looking at the little girl. "She's beautiful," Michonne told him. She looked up, her eyes twinkling. "She looks absolutely nothing like you." She knew she had said something wrong the minute his body jerked. Devastation flashed in his eyes, briefly, before he masked it away. "Rick, I… I was just joking."

Rick looked away from her. "I know."

She stared at him for a few moments. "Are you all right?"

The typical answer was to say yes. Always say yes. That's what he wanted to say. It was on the tip of his tongue.

But this was Michonne.

Aside from the fact that they hadn't known each other all that long, he _knew_ her, the same way she knew him. They could practically read each other's minds. It was _easy_ with them, despite the fact that they went through a battle of wills when they had first met.

But they had overcome it.

And if there was anybody he _should_ talk to, it was Michonne. This woman had basically given him the okay to forgive himself for thinking about giving her up to the Governor. She was rational, a clear thinker, no-nonsense. Logical, in every sense of the word. He should talk to her. She should hear it from him, anyway, before someone else spilled it. They didn't have a lot time for gossip in the prison, but it was bound to come up at some point.

He opened his mouth to answer her question, that _no_ , he _wasn't_ all right, when Carl came inside. His eyes brightened at the sight of Michonne.

"I was just coming to get a comic or two," Michonne told Carl. Carl smiled at her and handed her one at random. She smiled and thanked him, and then made her way out of the cell. She heard Rick tell Carl goodnight, and then he made his way outside, closing Carl's curtain.

Rick looked surprised to still see Michonne outside.

She'd been waiting for him.

They walked in silence for several moments before she turned to him. "I just wanted to say… if you ever wanted to talk… my door's always open."

He stared at her for a long time, not saying anything. They were careful. The two of them were… connected, they both knew it, and they took special care to make sure they didn't cross any lines.

There was definitely a mutual attraction there, one he _couldn't_ act on and one she wouldn't dare. They kept up boundaries because that's the kind of people they were.

He wasn't sure what drew him to her. He just remembered seeing her clutching the fence, the baby food in her hand, and he'd been hesitant…. God had he been hesitant. He didn't know her, not in the least, but he'd let her into these walls, she had helped them get Glenn and Maggie back…. It was after that rescue mission that Carl had told him that she was one of them, that she belonged, and he couldn't have agreed more.

There was just something about her. She made him feel things he hadn't felt in a long time.

It was best to not tempt himself.

"I'll keep that in mind," Rick finally said, and she nodded, heading off towards her cell.

He watched her walk away, realizing he was in deep _shit_.

…

The sun was just starting to rise when he heard her climbing up the latter. She still had another several hours before it was her turn to take watch, but he couldn't say he was all that surprised to see her.

They did this, more often than not: sat with each other on the other's watch.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey yourself," responded Rick.

Michonne stood next to him and leaned against the railing. They watched the sunrise in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. It would have been romantic – Rick wouldn't have minded if it had been, but it didn't feel right thinking like that – so the air was tense.

Absentmindedly he played with his wedding ring.

"Whatever it is, you two can get through it," Michonne said without looking at him.

He jerked and looked at her, and she finally met his gaze. "What?"

"I know I haven't been here that long, but I'm not blind. You and Lori don't even sleep in the same cell." Rick inhaled deeply. "Whatever it is, we live in a time where people die in a moment's notice. You two can fix it."

Rick looked away from her, especially as the yellow rays highlighted the gold undertones of her complexion. It was dazzling, sometimes. "Maybe I don't wanna fix it."

"Rick," sighed Michonne. "You don't seem like the kind of man to give up too easily." He just shook his head. "Do you love her?"

He paused and then nodded. "Yah."

"Okay then."

"Is love always enough?"

"In this world? It has to be."

He shook his head. "In this world, it's time to stop pretending." She stared at him. "Lori and I haven't been happy for a long time. The apocalypse hasn't miraculously changed that. And even if it had… everything went back to shit the minute I found out that Judith might not be mine."

Michonne felt like her heart had just relocated to her stomach. "That joke I told…." Her eyes fluttered closed as she remembered the look on his face. It all came to her then, the distance between Lori and Rick, the distrust, her inability to follow his lead and his inability to trust her judgment.

"I know you didn't mean anything by it. Hell, you didn't know."

"I didn't. I didn't suspect at all. I'd have never guessed, in fact. I'm sorry."

Rick paused for a few seconds. "I'm not." She looked at him. "I wouldn't be up here with you, otherwise."

It was a bold statement, a public acknowledgment aloud that there was this mutual attraction between them. Michonne's eyes instantly became guarded and she turned to face the sun again.

"You're married," was all she said, and who she was trying to convince, her or him he wasn't sure.

"Only because it's currently impossible to get a divorce."

She stared at him for a long time, her eyes searching his. "I didn't come up here for that." He arched an eyebrow. "I came here to tell you… that Daryl and I are going to go look for the Governor."

Rick looked stunned for a moment. "What?"

"I think he wants to avenge Merle, and I definitely wouldn't mind avenging Andrea. We both need this."

Now it was his turn to turn away, and he did, for several moments, saying nothing. He had nothing _to_ say. He wouldn't be able to stop her. Not _her_.

So he nodded. "You'll come back?"

She looked at him for a long time. "Yah. I'll be back." He nodded and watched her as she left.

…

Michonne was relieved when she saw Daryl in the kitchen. He was an early riser just like the rest of them.

"Hey," she said, her whisper urgent. "Remember that offer you made to me yesterday? About us leaving?"

"Yah," grunted Daryl.

"Well… I changed my mind. I'm in."

Daryl stared at her for a long time. "Why?"

"Does it matter?" Daryl shrugged and shook his head. "How soon can we leave?"

"You in a rush?"

"The longer we wait, the less chance we'll have to find him. I wanna find him."

Daryl nodded. "Let me get some stuff in order. You can start packin'."

Michonne nodded and walked away.

…

Lori was sitting in her cell, Judith in her arms when Daryl found her.

"Sup?" Daryl said. "How's Little Ass Kicker?"

"Kind of fussy." She looked at him, her eyebrows raised.

"Your plan… it worked. Michonne took me up on your offer to find the Governor." Lori visibly sighed with relief. "You still won't tell me why you're so adamant about gettin' rid of her?"

No, she wouldn't. Lori didn't see the point of telling Darly that Rick was falling for Michonne, and rightfully so, and she would do everything in her power to stop it.

"I told you, I jus' don't trust her. I do trust you, though, and if after you've looked for the Governor and you decide she's okay, then we're good." By that time, she'd have done whatever she could to try and save her marriage.

"Well all right then." Daryl said. "We'll leave as soon as we can."

Lori smiled. "Good. Thank you, Daryl."

Later on that day, when it was Lori's turn to take watch, she watched as Carl hugged Michonne goodbye.

Rick was there too, and it made her stomach churn. He didn't hug her, though. They stared at each other for a few moments, having secret conversations like only they could – like he had never been able to do with her.

It bothered her, Lori realized as she watched Daryl and Michonne drive away. It bothered her that Rick never talked to her, that he never confided in her, yet Michonne knew everything without Rick ever having to say a word.

Sighing Lori raised the binoculars to her eyes and followed the car until it was out of sight. Then she scanned the yard, her eye stopping on a particular walker.

She'd seen her fair share of disgusting walkers, but seeing one at the edge of the forest with blood dripping down its eyes took the cake.

She moved on, her eyes resting back on Rick. He was still standing at the gate, as if he wished they'd come back.

Lori prayed that the time away from Michonne would help him remember his family. She _needed_ him. Carl needed him. So did Judith. They were a _family_.

Or maybe… maybe, she realized as she continued to watch her husband lean against the fence… maybe she needed to stop pretending.

She and Rick hadn't been happy for a while now. At first things were great. They were in love. Then she had Carl, and she wasn't sure how life could get better. Then, somewhere down the line, something changed. They started to change, and her messing around with his best friend, even under the assumption Rick wad dead, had always been a bad move.

A part of her had always wanted Shane. That was hard to admit, but it was the truth. And that's why she was so hell bent on stopping Rick and Michonne from happening, because she _recognized_ the way he looked at Michonne.

He used to look at her like that.

Rick had said he had known about her and Shane, that it didn't matter, but it did. He had grown colder, and she couldn't blame him.

But they weren't _pretending_ to play house. They were a family, and she would do whatever she could to keep them that way.

* * *

A/N: So I ended up LOVING this one.

I hope you all caught that walker with the blood trickling out of its eyes at the edge of the forest – it's similar to the same walker Rick will see in "30 Days Without an Accident" that causes the sickness to spread. Just a little foreshadowing. IF Lori had survived pregnancy, I wouldn't have minded her going like this. Bye bish.

Also, I always thought the Lori/Shane dynamic was deeper than it was – that she would have eventually committed adultery even if the Turn never happened. Not everyone agrees with that theory I know, but I do. I also think for the sake of the family, Rick would have tried to make it work. He doesn't in this case, and good for him.

PS: I'm currently at the airport boarding a flight home to visit my mom. She's GRADUATING in a couple of days, I'm so happy for her. I'll still be posting and taking prompts. I COULD USE SOME MORE PROMPTS =]


	30. The Last Goodbye

_This takes place during "After," which is the episode where Richonne was solidified for me. Seeing Michonne find Carl and Rick was all I needed, and from that moment on they were Grimes Family 2.0 in my books_.

 **THE LAST GOODBYE**

 **Rated T**

The walker was definitely dead, and it was easy to tell because the door was wide open. Michonne took a cautious look around the store, her hand gripping her sword, and then slowly approached the walker. She glanced up, checking her surroundings, and then knelt beside the walker, noting that it had been killed recently.

They could be close.

She immediately stood up and headed towards the door, but a piece of paper on the ground caught her eye.

 _Please do what we couldn't,_ it read. Signed, _Joe, Jr._

She immediately blamed it on the dream she had had earlier. The surge of emotions that she had tried so hard to bottle down came flooding up within seconds, so much so that she had no choice but to sit.

She'd been so careful these past few months in keeping it all closed off.

It wasn't easy.

Rick awakened things in her, things she was wasn't ready to admit, let alone think about, but there was something so… _powerful_ about watching a man do everything in his power to protect his own, particularly but not limited to his own son.

Michonne had never experienced that. She'd never had the chance to experience it. If anything she had been the Rick in her past relationship, though truth be told, unlike Rick, she had failed.

She'd bonded with Carl first. While she and Rick were still at odds she found common ground with the boy. Carl was so special, on so many levels, and she had imagined and hoped – when she allowed herself to – that Andre would have grown up to be something like Carl.

It was hard to tell, figuring Mike ended up being nothing like Rick.

Rick and Carl had shown her _life_ in a world full of death.

She'd fallen victim to that world.

When she'd met them, and she'd let them in, she thought she'd be content with that. And then Beth had asked her to hold Judith – Judith, who Michonne had taken special care to not be around too long, or hold – and within a few seconds all those walls came crumbling down.

Little Judith had been the last straw. After holding her Michonne had become human again.

She'd taken special care to close off that part of her. Andrea had worked her way in. Because of Andrea she had allowed Carl in. Because of Carl there was Rick.

Because of Judith there was Andre.

That hadn't left much room for Mike. Not lately. Some days she didn't _want_ to think about him, after everything he did he was _lucky_ that parts of her still loved him.

But the anger that used to consume her didn't thrive as much anymore. She _missed_ him, and that dream, and this note, made him damn hard to forget.

When they lost the prison, she'd been so close to shutting down again. She could have. She almost did. She wouldn't have anyone to bring her back a second time, though. Seeing that walker who resembled her so had been the best thing for her.

She didn't want to die.

She wanted to _live_.

And she knew, deep down she _knew_ that Rick and Carl and Judith were still alive. She just had to find them. So she followed their footsteps, and they had led her here, and they would continue to lead her to them.

She wouldn't stop until she found them.

But she had to let this go.

Not Andre. She'd always, _always_ keep Andre with her. Her sweet, baby boy would always have a piece of her soul. He was her little peanut, and there would always be a part of her that belonged solely to him.

She could and would always miss him.

And to miss him, she had to live.

Mike was dead. Mike was dead by his own actions and choices, and she had to come to grips with that. Because when she had decided to follow those footprints, she had decided to live.

She had to let him go. She wouldn't be able to survive if every little thing would remind her of what once was.

"Mike." She spoke his name, but it didn't feel as familiar. It had been a while. A long while. Still, she felt the tears, tasted the salt as they trailed down her cheeks. "I miss you." But even as she said the words, something changed in her. Something shifted. "I missed you even when I was with you." Just saying that aloud was enough to start healing her. "Back at the camp. It wasn't you who did it." It had been his fear. His insecurities. She breathed in deeply as it started to hit her. This wasn't her fault, and there was no point in holding on to the guilt. She'd done all she could. "You were wrong," she said aloud. "Because I'm still here. And you could be too. And he could be."

Guilt or not, the pain ambushed her again, so she cried. She cried for the boy who never got to learn how to live this life. She cried for the boy who'd never get a chance to be like Carl.

Michonne took another deep breath. She knew what she had to do, and this was the only way to find the strength to do it. She knew she would find them soon. They were close. She could _feel_ it.

"I know the answer," she told Mike, and for some reason Rick's face popped into her mind. She wouldn't address it. Not here. Not now. It wasn't the time or the place. "I know why." She sighed again and then stood up.

She would find them. She would find her… family. Her new family. She had enough strength… she had enough _life_ left for that.

She took a final look around, her eyes resting on the piece of paper, and then turned towards the door.

"Goodbye, Mike," she whispered, and she stepped outside.

After killing the walker, she continued to follow the steps that would eventually allow her to meet up with those who now mattered most.

* * *

A/N: I loved this scene on the show because after this, and she finds her boys, it was just a wrap for me. I feel like she had to let Mike go in order to be what Rick and Carl needed for her, and she knew that. Then in "Claimed" she was "done taking breaks." Richonne was ON and poppin'!


	31. A Brush of His Hand

_Consider this a missing "thought" during "Knots Untie." You can't call it a missing scene because the scene was in the episode LOL._

 **A BRUSH OF HIS HAND**

 **Rated T+ for alluding to sex**

Michonne made her way outside, Jesus next to her. She saw Rick and Carl talking behind the RV and ignored the swooping in her stomach. She stepped into the RV, passing Abraham as she did. She passed Jesus, who nodded to her, and made her way to the passenger seat. She felt as Maggie, Glenn, and Abraham stepped into the RV as she sat in the passenger seat, her sword on her back, a gun in her hand, her mind going a million miles a minute.

She'd slept with Rick last night.

In retrospect it shouldn't surprise her. _Of course_ it was Rick. It was _always_ supposed to be Rick. But they'd crossed a line last night, and yah, granted, they had talked about it before falling asleep, but pillow talk in the middle of the night was completely different from how a person felt during the day.

She'd slept with Rick last night.

And everyone knew. And those who didn't know now, would soon.

She couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever have a _normal_ day again. To ask Rick to bring home some toothpaste _seemed_ normal, but it wasn't their real normal. Their new normal consisted of their night being interrupted by a stranger who called himself Jesus and she wasn't even all that surprised about it.

The past two months had just been pretend.

This… this was real. This was normal.

And the fact that she and Rick had been interrupted and had both startled awake and hopped out of bed naked, their weapons drawn, was something that she hadn't even thought about. It was defensive and second nature.

To find Carl out of bed, a gun to Jesus' head, staring at them – with it being more than completely obvious what it is she and Rick had been doing – was a hard pill to swallow.

To top it off, Glenn, Maggie, Abraham, and Daryl had all come barging in, their own weapons drawn, and if a fifteen-year old boy could interpret what it was his father had been doing, surely three adult males and one pregnant female could draw their own conclusions, too.

It wasn't like they were subtle. Rick's shirt had still been off, he'd been buckling up his pants, and Michonne was still lowering her own shirt over her stomach.

She pictured the small smirk Carl had given her at the table earlier and felt her stomach swoop again.

There were so many emotions floating around in her she didn't know what to feel. On one hand she was excited. She was in love with her best friend, and there was no one else in all the world she'd rather be with. They probably never would have met before, they'd never have crossed the same path, but in _this_ world, they belonged together.

It was obvious, and they'd proven that truth last night.

Yet it still felt awkward. This wasn't how she would have had Carl find out, and in no world, this one or the one before, would she have ever wanted to be walked in on.

It was humiliating.

But at the time, all she could think about was protecting her family, and protecting herself, and she was convinced that she was just as capable of defending those she loved naked as she would be if she had been clothed.

She felt Rick brush her as he sat down in the driver's seat. She tried not to stiffen, or show any discomfort. It's not that she didn't want him to touch her – she had no problem with him touching, they'd come a long way from her demanding such a thing to him like she had in the prison all those months ago, which they proved more than ever last night – but she found herself slightly out of sorts.

She felt like she was back in high school, like a school girl who was sitting next to her crush, and it was something she hadn't felt in a long while, and it was making her uncomfortable. She was used to being in control, and for the first time she felt out of control, and she didn't like it.

Michonne propped her leg up on the seat as they headed to the Hilltop. She needed to get her head in the game, she didn't have _time_ to feel these silly little feelings when they could potentially be heading into a trap.

She wasn't sure if she trusted Jesus or not. Anyone willing to just barge in on two naked people sleeping peacefully was someone she wanted to keep her eye on.

Still, they were going, and she didn't have time to worry about her and Rick.

Rick, who had barely said anything to her since this morning. Not that they'd had time. She wasn't trying to be the clingy girlfriend – and that wasn't a title she was looking forward to addressing anytime soon – but she couldn't help but realize they _hadn't_ really spoken. _She_ hadn't sought him out either. After they decided they'd go with Jesus all any of them had time to do was take a quick shower and get ready. She'd immediately gone to her room – that was where her clothes were, after all – and he'd gone to his. By the time he'd gone upstairs to shower she was already finished with hers, and by the time he'd come downstairs the rest of the group was waiting on him.

But Michonne didn't feel _bad_. She was happy she'd crossed that line; she was just unsure of what would come of it now. Where would the two of them go from here? She wanted to believe that nothing had changed, that their relationship would be made better now, but only time would tell.

One thing was for sure: she'd give almost anything to have the opportunity to do it again. She felt… _free_ for the first time in a long time. She felt relaxed. Good sex could do that for you, and Rick did it well, she realized.

She briefly remembered his calloused hands and the feel of them against her skin. The thought made her smile a little. She played with her braid and glanced at him, and it didn't take long for him to reach across and brush her knee, as if he could either hear her thoughts or feel her stare.

It was the simplest and gentlest of touches, just a small brush, but it was enough.

And just like that, all the worry and fear and doubt went away. She reached for his hand, grabbing it, and the world righted. He gripped her hand, resting his hand on her knee, and glimpsed at her, a smile on his own face.

She smiled back.

They were headed towards unknown territory, both physically and figuratively, but they were headed there together.

And she found that she was okay with that.

* * *

A/N: I doubt very much that Michonne is a self-conscious person in general, but I just felt like before Rick grabbed Michonne's hand she was feeling slightly self-conscious. I've watched that scene a million times and I just feel like when Rick reached out for she relaxed somewhat. Sometimes I assume they had really exhausting sex and just fell asleep after and never had a chance to really talk about everything and it was a good way for him to reassure her.


	32. Easy Like Sunday Morning

A/N: BlackAngelGoldWing: Couldn't PM you but I LOVE your prompt idea! It might take me a while to get into Jesus' head, but I can def try this! Thanks

* * *

 _So what If Rick had convinced Michonne to stay in bed during "East?" Yah, that's what I wanted to write about. It coulda been SUCH a great moment._

 _WE SHALL NOT DISCUSS ALL THE RELIGIOUS SYMBOLISM IN THIS EPISODE. Nope. Not gonna happen. I can't tell you how ANNOYING this scene is to me, with Rick's overconfidence. I just wanna choke tf outta him. *_ _Deep breath*_ _We'll just look at this on the surface of it being a damn good morning LOL._

 _Title taken from the GENIUS that is Lionel Richie/The Commodores._

 _Also, the title's a play on words—TWD comes on every Sunday in the States, so I just thought it was a clever title, and not to mention since everyone was having a moment it seemed like a weekend morning to me LOL._

 **EASY LIKE SUNDAY MORNING**

 **Rated M for smut**

Rick felt the sunlight on his face and shifted slightly. He knew it was early still, so he willed himself to stay asleep. He wasn't ready to get up yet, or leave the comfort of Michonne being wrapped around him.

Without really meaning to Rick kissed the top of her shoulder a couple of times.

He should have known it'd be enough to wake her. She shifted a little, sighing softly, and Rick tightened his hold on her, letting her know he wasn't ready for them to leave the bed yet. She stayed still, but he could tell she was up.

When she reached for the apple on her nightstand, he knew she was really awake. He heard her take a bite, and then she was turning to offer him a bite, like she did every morning. He took a bite, taking the apple from her, and then wrapped his arms around her again. She reached back and ran her fingers through his hair and he kissed her shoulder again as she caressed his hand.

"This is good," Rick said softly.

Michonne hummed in agreement. "Yes it is." She gave a soft smile, her eyes closed. "Jesus came through."

"They all did," agreed Rick. "And they're all gonna keep comin' through."

"Maggie asked me and Glenn to help put up more bins and watch guards."

Rick peaked open an eye and turned to get a good look at his clock. Realizing it was barely after half past five Rick smirked. "Stick around," he said, already pulling her towards him. "Judith… Judith isn't even up yet. He brought her shoulder down with his cheek and started kissing her, making his way down her body.

Michonne laughed, and even though she didn't want to piss off a pregnant lady, Michonne succumbed to the pleasure. Rick reached over and placed the apple back down onto Michonne's nightstand and then removed the sheet from her body.

He kissed her lips before moving down her body, first starting with her breasts. Michonne gripped his hair, moaning softly, her back arching off of the bed. His tongue flicked her nipple and Michonne cried out.

"You'll wake Judith if you keep that up," smirked Rick, not even looking at her.

"Easy for you to say," Michonne responded, breathless.

Rick chuckled and continued kissing his way down, down, down, until he reached her center.

His blue eyes flickered up to his brown ones as his tongue entered her. She clutched his hair even tighter and his hands gripped her breasts, squeezing. It didn't take long for Michonne's body to buckle, or for her to clamp her legs shut around his head. He waited until she came before pulling her legs apart.

It was something about watching her coming undone that made him need her like never before.

She sat up, clearly ready to return the favor – and boy, could she – but he shook his head. He wouldn't last long if she did that, so he covered her body and slipped into her.

Michonne inhaled, still adjusting to him, and he stayed still until she locked her legs around him. He started moving, slowly, taking his time, even though he wanted to ram into her again and again.

She met his gentle strokes with tender thrusts of her own, their eyes locked. He bent down and kissed her, softly, and she slid her tongue into his mouth. It was enough to get him to speed up a little, and then she was sucking on his bottom lip and he thought he had died and gone on to heaven.

He _definitely_ believed in heaven again.

He mewled, completely against his will, and buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her. She smelled like him, probably from last night, and from the apple they'd had.

She dug her nails into his back and untangled her legs from around him, placing her feet firmly on the bed. Suddenly her thrusts became anxious and demanding, and he knew she was close.

The pleasure overwhelmed him and he felt dizzy. He wouldn't be able to hold back for too much longer. He bit her neck, felt her body jerk, and looked down at her. The ecstasy she felt was written all over her face.

She met his gaze, her dark brown eyes burning black, and called out his name, cumming. He did the same, cursing softly, his hips plummeting into hers until every drop was spent.

Breathing hard he slid off of her, lying on his back.

Michonne waited until her brain allowed her to talk again. "Maggie's gonna kill me."

Rick chuckled out a laugh, feeling damned good.

"Give her my apologies," Rick stated.

"Easy for you to say from here," sighed Michonne, getting up.

Lots of things were easy now: how he felt about her, how they were living, how _happy_ they were. It _was_ easy, he mused as he watched her walk into the bathroom.

Like Sunday morning.

* * *

A/N: To the Guest who asked: THIS is why this story is rated M: because of one-shots like this, and like Chapters 10, 14, 17, and the other sixteen one-shots that have already been written that are rated M that I haven't posted yet.


	33. Of Wraspurts and Veela

_I had to do another HP AU, this time with everyone at Hogwarts. It's mainly just TF in the Wizarding World. No apocalypse, but of course there's SOME major threat that'll take place in later installments._

 **OF WRASPURTS AND VEELA**

 **Rated T**

Rick stood outside the gates, trying not to feel agitated at having to be outside, in the cold, to wait for some mysterious stranger who was transferring schools in the middle of the school year. Who _did_ that? He had never heard of such a thing. Most students arrived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on the Hogwarts Express, on September first. After the Christmas holiday, students returned on the train on January second. That's what _normal_ students did, anyway.

He didn't know what was so special about this student, but he would quickly find out.

He felt her long before he saw her, and all he could do was stare as she approached the gates. She had a… _presence_ about her that he'd never felt before, and he found himself too stunned to even move. He just looked at her as she approached the fence, his forget-me-not blue eyes locking with her coffee colored orbs, taking in everything about her: her smooth, dark skin, glowing in the moonlight; her structured frame, tall and lean; her trunk on one shoulder, her wand in her hand.

For a moment time just seemed to stop. It was like an Immobulus Charm had been performed on him. He literally could not move. He just stood there, rooted to the spot, and the person he'd been waiting for approached the gates, wrapping her fingers around her the rail, staring back at him.

Rick had no idea how long he stood out there, just staring at her, the night steadily getting darker and cooler. It could have been hours; it could have been years. He honestly had no clue.

He had no idea what shook him out of his trance. Eventually he headed to the gate and opened it, allowing her to walk through. He closed the gate behind her, sealing it back up, and then turned to face her.

"Hi," said Rick softly, and he wondered what the hell was wrong with him. She gave him a gentle nod. "I'm Rick."

"Michonne," she said, her own voice quiet.

He felt a chill go through him that he blamed on the cold. _Michonne_.

"I'm supposed to take you to Headmaster Dumbledore," stated Rick, and Michonne nodded. He motioned for her to follow him, which she did. They walked in silence, Rick doing his best to keep his eyes focused straight ahead.

Still, he couldn't help but glance back at her every now and then. She seemed oblivious to his stares, which was a relief, because he couldn't understand why he couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

Inside the castle Rick motioned for her to continue following him, and she did, her boots echoing against the tile floor. They made their way to Dumbledore's office.

"Big Cat," Rick stated to the stone gargoyle, and the entrance to Dumbledore's office opened. Rick motioned for Michonne to go first and the two of them made their way up the staircase. Rick knocked on the door and opened it when he was told to do so. "Sir. I have—"

"Ah. Mr. Grimes. I see you have met our newest student," stated Dumbledore, rising out of his seat. "Thank you so much for bringing her."

"That's one of the perks of bein' a Prefect," said Rick.

Dumbledore smiled, his half-moon spectacles glistening in the fire light. "And good pre-requisites to make Head Boy one day."

"Please don't say that too loudly. Daryl would never let me live it down."

"I think Mr. Dixon would be just as proud of you as the rest of Team Family. Isn't that what you guys are calling yourself nowadays?"

"Goodnight, Professor," was all Rick said.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Goodnight."

With one last look at Michonne, Rick made his way out of the office and back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

…

The next morning Rick headed towards the Great Hall for breakfast, keeping an eye out for the mysterious stranger from last night. For the longest time he thought he had dreamt her. There seemed to be no evidence of her anywhere.

It wasn't until breakfast was nearly over that she finally entered the Great Hall.

The entire school seemed to stop at her entrance. It was obvious that her appearance shocked everyone, but Rick couldn't help but wonder if anyone else was having trouble breathing, or if it was just him. He stared at her, his mouth suddenly dry, and watched her, along with everyone else, as she made her way down the hall.

She was dressed like everyone else, but she stood out. There was this bright aura around her, like a ray of sunshine exuberating from her. It was almost as if she housed a _lumos_ spell inside of her.

Now that it was daylight he could get a better look at her. She had the most amazing hair: long, dark 'locs hung down her back, curled at the tip. Her skin was dark and smooth, lovely even, and had a golden tone to it that made Rick think she was born from the sun.

He had no idea what planet she had come from, but he'd never seen anyone on Earth look like _her_.

She had on her school robes and a maroon and gold scarf hung around her neck. Rick could make out the Gryffindor crest on her robe.

The thought that she was one of them immediately entered his brain.

He noticed the whispers as she walked passed everyone, her head held high.

"Who the hell is that?" asked Daryl.

Rick didn't respond. He couldn't. Either his head was filled with wraspurts or Michonne was part Veela. It was the only logical explanation as to why he had this reaction to her. He didn't even _know_ her.

"Well, well, well," a familiar voice said. "What do we have here?" Michonne stiffened and turned around.

"Merle, don' start," said Daryl.

"Relax, litte brother. I'm jus' tryna get a good look at this Nubian Queen right here."

"Merle." Rick's voice was cold as he spoke. "Leave her alone. Why don't you go on to the Slytherin table where you belong?"

"You think 'cause you're my brother's best friend you can talk to me however you want?"

"No, I think this badge on my chest gives me the right to tell you that it's about time you start gettin' ready to head to class."

"That prefect badge will only get you so far, Grimes," Merle stated coolly. "It won't always be there to protect you." He fixed his eyes on Michonne. "I'm sure I'll see you aroun'." He grinned at her and headed towards his own table.

"If he bothers you again, let me know," stated Rick, clearly annoyed. He stood up, gathering his books.

"I didn't ask for your help," Michonne told him.

Rick grabbed his books and stared at her. "Yah, well, you got it." With those words, he headed out of the Great Hall, leaving Michonne to stare after him.

…

Transfiguration was Rick's first class of the day, and he couldn't figure out if he was annoyed or not at the fact that he shared it with Michonne. He'd never been one to let what others said or thought about him affect him, but something about her rubbed him the wrong way.

His agitation grew when he noted that he had this class with Slytherin, Merle included. So were a few other people he didn't really care to see. The problem with the Holiday break was that it was easy to forget about the problems at school.

And Rick Grimes had quite a few problems.

The good thing was that Transfiguration was one of the subjects he had trouble with, so normally he had to concentrate and didn't have a lot of time to let his mind wander.

Sometimes he just wanted to turn his brain off.

Rick headed to the front and took the same seat he took last year.

"Ah, Miss Rogers," Professor McGonagall said, "I see you've made it. Welcome to Gryffindor. I was hoping you'd be in my House."

"Well Ravenclaw gave you a run for your money, but here I am," stated Michonne.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Why don't you find yourself a seat? I think there is one available next to Mr. Grimes." Michonne glanced at Rick and then nodded. She sat down next to Rick as the rest of the class found their seats and settled down. "I know you're new, but you come from South Africa's Conservatory of Magic. Their reputation supersedes them. I expect you to keep up in my class." Michonne nodded. "If you need any help, I'm sure Mr. Grimes will be more than willing to do so."

With those words McGonagall handed her a worksheet that she was clearly supposed to pass down to everyone else in their row. She looked at the papers for a few seconds and then looked up to find Rick staring at her.

"You got a problem with that approach?" asked Rick.

She searched his eyes for a few seconds before replying. "No, Rick. I don't have a problem." Her voice was soft, and his stomach did something both stupid and funny when she said his name.

It did it again when he grabbed his worksheet from her, his fingertips accidentally brushing hers.

She was definitely part Veela, he mused.

…

It turned out he didn't have to help Michonne out at all. She was a natural in the Transfiguration department, and he found himself quite impressed. He tried not to show it, but wasn't quite sure he'd succeeded.

By the end of the period he was somewhat sad to see her go.

He didn't see her again until after lunch – not that he had been looking for her. The had Defense Against the Dark Arts together.

Professor Merrythought took the time to introduce Michonne again, and she was perceived with a little more warmth than normal figuring they shared the class with Hufflepuff as opposed to Slytherin.

"In this class we usually partner with someone," Professor Merrythought explained. "Since you're already familiar with Mr. Grimes I'll pair you two up together." Michonne glanced at him and he arched an eyebrow. "Go ahead and select your partners and I'll explain what we'll be doing today," she told the rest of the class

The sound of chairs scraping and people moving around filled the classroom. Rick and Michonne stayed put since they were already next to each other. Two people approached the table.

"Michonne, this is Daryl and Glenn, two of my best friends," Rick introduced, pointing to a man with dark hair that fell over his eyes and an Asian.

"Part of Team Family?" asked Michonne.

Rick chuckled. "Yah, somethin' like that." Glenn and Daryl arched an amused eyebrow but before they could respond someone else approached them.

"Rick," said the girl. She had long, dark brown hair and light brown eyes. "We always partner together," she told him.

"Partner with Shane," stated Rick coldly, and then he was up again, heading towards the back of the classroom. The girl looked at him for a long time, and then glanced at Daryl and Glenn, who didn't say anything. After a while she finally left.

Michonne observed all this without saying a word.

And unbeknownst to them, so did a girl by the name of Jessie.

* * *

A/N: I'm already having SO much fun in this Universe. I apologize if they seem a little OOC…. They're not hardened by an apocalypse. I just wanted something a little more light and airy for once, and HP is my first love so I wanted to include members of TF in this Universe.

In later installments we'll see Maggie, we'll get a Yule Ball or sorts, and we'll start to see more Richonne moments. This won't be the last time we see Lori, and YES, Shane is coming! I'll probably add Morgan and Jesus in this Universe as well.

DON'T KILL ME, but I HAD to add Jessie, I just HAVE to LOL.

That's all for THIS one-shot, though. Stay tuned for more.

Also, consider TF the modern day Marauders. OH, and Michonne's last name is Danai's father's first name. I couldn't figure out what else to call her LOL.


	34. Just Desserts

_Created a tumblr (idcabtthisish) and I've NO idea how tf to use it, BUT I DID see a Riconne challenge, hence, this "one-shot." Really it's more of a drabble. "Just Desserts" was the name fo the challenge._

 **JUST DESSERTS**

 **Rated M for smutty sentences**

-1. Angst-

Rick's fear at not having the blood type to match Judith and ultimately save her life flew out the window the minute Michonne said she was O negative; "Take my blood," she whispered to Dr. Carson, her eyes bright with tears.

-2. AU-

"Special Agent Grimes, your attorney is here to see you," and Rick never even really heard his secretary; he just locked eyes with the woman who was much more than Georgia's top defense attorney—she was his wife.

-3. Crack ( _could be Richonne meets!Movie/Book/TV Plot_ )-

Michonne stared back at the boy with the forget-me-not-blue eyes as he looked at her through the train window; for a moment, time stopped, and all she saw was him, until the clock struck eleven and she had to hurry and make her way onto the Hogwarts Express.

-4. Future fic-

Michonne grimaced and placed her hand on her stomach; Rick stood stock still until she reached out and grabbed his hand, allowing him to palm the large baby bump so he could feel their daughter's first kick.

-5. First Time-

Rick willed himself to keep walking up the stairs – his first time with Michonne would _not_ be with her pinned up against the wall, knocking pictures down.

-6. Fluff-

The snowball hit Rick square in the face; he blinked in shock before scooping up one of his own and chasing Michonne all over Alexandria.

-7. Humor-

She giggled as he removed his gun holster and belt, still in slight disbelief that this was finally happening between them.

-8. Hurt/Comfort-

Rick fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around Michonne's waist, burying his face in her stomach, trying to forget that they had just lost one of their own.

-9. Romance (or Smut)-

Rick moaned softly, burying his face in the crook of her neck while Michonne tightened her legs around Rick's waist; she felt her muscles tense as she clenched around him.

-10. UST (Unresolved Sexual Tension)-

It was a simple brush, nothing overly erotic – like a gentle breeze on a warm summer day – just a passing gesture to let him know she was thinking about him; it had him hard for the rest of the day.

-11. Domestic-

Michonne stopped Carl and asked him if his mother had been a housewife, and after glancing at his father, Carl nodded; Michonne smiled and said, "I'm not Lori, so pick up your plate and place it in the sink before you go and meet Enid."

-12. Writer's Choice/Free Form.-

It was something she never thought she'd have again: a man she loved, sleeping next to her, his arms around her, his hands palming her round stomach.


	35. Taking Notice

_Wanted to showcase a few different times TF might have noticed some Richonne moments over the course of their time together =]_

 **TAKING NOTICE**

 **Rated T**

-DARYL-

Daryl approached Rick on his bike and noticed that Michonne was standing next to him.

 _Good_ , Daryl couldn't help but think. Maybe now Rick would stop bitching at everyone. He was always a little more asshole like whenever Michonne left to find the Governor.

Daryl doubted Rick even noticed, but the rest of them certainly did.

He never wanted Michonne to go, and on those occasions where Daryl went with her, Rick seemed more open to them leaving.

If she went out there alone? It was a wrap.

She was back for now, though, so maybe Rick could calm his nerves for a few days.

"Look who's back," Daryl stated with a smirk.

Michonne sent him a smile. "I didn't find him."

"Glad you made it back in one piece."

"I'm thinking of look out near Macon." Daryl stared at Michonne and then glanced at Rick. His jaw was set, and his eyes were blazing. His entire body had gone tense. It was similar to him throwing a tantrum, but he kept his mouth shut, despite the fact that he clearly didn't agree with Michonne going back out there. Daryl couldn't say he disagreed. As if knowing what they were thinking, Michonne continued. "It's worth a shot." Her voice was hard, almost like she was convincing them and herself.

"Seventy miles of walkers. You might run into a few un-neighborly types." Daryl paused as he looked at her. "Is it?" Michonne looked marginally exasperated, and stayed quiet. Daryl glanced back to Rick, who was obviously still annoyed. "I'm gonna check out the Big Spot. The one I was talkin' about. Jus' seein."

Rick nodded. "Yah, I gotta go out to check the snares," Rick said. "I don't wanna lose whatever we catch to the walkers."

"I'll go," volunteered Michonne.

"You just got here," Carl told her.

Michonne smiled at him. "And I'll be back."

Michonne headed towards the car, Rick following her with his eyes, his gaze intense.

Starting up his bike, his eyes glued to Rick, Daryl stared at Rick as he stared at Michonne.

Making sure his expression remained neutral, Daryl hit Rick's stomach softly. As if snapping out of a trance, Rick ran to open the gate.

Daryl hid his smirk until he was well passed the walls of the prison.

…

-GLEGGIE-

Maggie shifted slightly and Glenn wrapped his arms even tighter around her. She sighed and turned to face him. He gave her a soft smile and she returned in.

"This isn't gonna work for too much longer," Maggie said softly. Glenn just looked at her. "Us. Them. All of us sharin' one space, in the living room." Maggie sat up and looked around. The entire group was on the floor, like they were still on the road, like they could be attacked at any minute. "These people… the Alexandrians aren't bad people. We're not in danger here."

"Rick's not gonna like it," responded Glenn just as quietly.

"Rick's not in a good place right now," Maggie counter-argued. She reached out brushed Glenn's hair out of his face. "Besides… I miss you." Her hand traveled down to his chest and his breath quickened and he leaned in for a kiss. "Why don't we sneak off to the bathroom?"

Glenn didn't need telling twice. The two of them got up and stepped over all the bodies, making sure to be extra quiet.

Daryl was at the window – it was his turn to keep watch – and even in the dark they could see the smirk he sent them.

Glenn grabbed her hand and was about to lead her to the bathroom upstairs – more room to be loud – but Maggie stopped him, motioning to the floor.

It took Glenn a few more seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dark, and to pinpoint what Maggie was trying to show him.

He smiled softly at the sight before him: Carl perpendicular to Rick and Michonne, who were sleeping next to each other.

They certainly were awfully close, noted Glenn.

"How long do you think it'll be before they share a bed?" asked Maggie.

Glenn shrugged. "However long it takes Rick to accept this place."

Maggie pondered that. "Poor Michonne," she commented, and then the two of them headed upstairs.

…

-DEANNA-

She watched the two of them quietly, taking it all in: the former Sheriff and the former lawyer, both of them strong and strong-willed. She… she was ready for this place. And him? Well, he might have been out there too long.

He would learn.

And she would teach him.

She, the _true_ leader, would be the only one who could bring him back, make him see reason. She was not his co-pilot, like they both suspected, but she was his Queen in a game of chess. She was powerful, she had more control, and he needed her. She protects him, her king, because it is what she does best.

They didn't see it that way yet, but they would.

He was nothing without her.

He was dependent on her, and it would be humbling once he figured that out. He would have to fall from grace before it could happen. He would do something stupid, something that would affect all of them, and it would be her to bring him back.

It was always her.

They worked well together, she noted. They scouted the community, their eyes taking in everything. They were on alert, even now, even as most of the residents were inside starting dinner.

She noticed it all.

It was her job to notice.

The two of them could speak to each other without ever having to say anything, but they were at odds right now.

She wanted this place, he didn't, but he wouldn't go anywhere without her.

Anyone else could decide to leave or stay, but without Michonne, Rick would be lost.

Deanna made her final notes and then sat up, her rocking chair on her front porch still rocking even as she vacated it. With one final glance at Rick and Michonne, Deanna made her way inside.

Those two would figure it out.

And if they didn't… well she could always push Michonne in the right direction.

…

-Morgan-

He watched in silent fascination as he took in Michonne and Rick's morning routine. It was almost like he was intruding on something intimate.

She would hand him a bottle of water without him ever having to ask. He would know which fruit the grab out of the bowl – always apples, never an orange. She always grabbed the lighter pieces of toast and Rick would get the darker pieces.

Rick would sit his gun on the table while he ate, Michonne's katana would sit next to her chair. Michonne would feed Judith and Rick would watch with fondness.

Rick always finished breakfast first. He'd take his plate to the sink, grab his gun, put it in his holster, and walk over to Judith and bend down and kiss her goodbye. Then he'd glance at Michonne, she'd tell him to have a good day and to be careful out there, and he'd respond with a "We'll see" and a "thank you" and they'd low-five and he'd head out.

Her eyes would follow him all the way out the door.

There was something there, Morgan thought.

All it would take is a little bit of peace for them to see it.

…

-JESUS-

Jesus looked around, making sure the coast was clear, and then made his way out. The community was pretty quiet and it was easy for him to look around. He took it all in, keeping in mind what he had gathered about Rick, and figured that he'd stay closest to the front gate. Taking special care to stay hidden, and still taking in the community, Jesus made his way towards Rick's.

There was a person on guard – smart, thought Jesus – but their back was to him. He quietly snuck out of the bushes, thankful for his dark clothes, and turned and faced the front of the community.

He looked to his left. That house had no lights on, and he noticed a single pair of footprints out front. He looked to the right, taking in that house. There was a soft glow in the window and Jesus took that as his cue. Still taking special care to be quiet, he made his way up the front porch.

He could see two shadows in the window. A couple, kissing on the couch.

The man was definitely Rick.

Jesus would have knocked and interrupted, only it seemed like this wasn't just a welcome home kiss. Things were definitely heating up, and before Jesus could decide to walk up to the door and knock the two of them started to make their way upstairs.

Jesus shrugged. He had time. He could wait.

How long could they last?

Apparently quite some time. When Jesus finally made the decision to sneak in he immediately made his way upstairs. He just wanted to talk, but it didn't take him long to realize that he was interrupting a lot more than sleep.

He could hear the two of them, neither of them were trying to be quiet, and Jesus momentarily found himself transfixed: the way she moaned, the way he grunted, the way she gasped, the way he cursed…. It sounded intimate, like two people who knew each other's bodies well, like two people who loved each other and had no problem expressing themselves to one another.

As tempting as it was to stay and listen, Jesus decided to give them some privacy.

He had other things he could do: check out the perimeter, see the weaponry….

He'd be back when they finished. After the day Rick had, Jesus thought it was only fair.


	36. The Talking Dead

_These random one-shots are just a series of drabbles, or one-shots I couldn't make into a full story. They were just thoughts roaming around in my head that I had to get out. Anymore drabble collections I come up with will also have 'Talking Dead' in the title. Again, ratings vary by story. Title's a play on words._

 _A prompt is also included in this series of stories:_ _"_ _Prompt – "Now that Negan has Rick where he wants him, he gives Rick a choice...Michonne or one of his group will meet Lucille up-close and personal, but Michonne makes the choice for him and leaves with Negan." –ShunnieIsFine. It's the story "Volunteer." PROMPT DOES NOT CONTAIN SPOILERS. There's nothing to spoil: WE DON'T KNOW WHO DIES! Because, remember, THERE WAS A STUPID CLIFFHANGER! Anyway, I liked this prompt because I got the sneaky suspicion Negan was checking Michonne out when they had that eye contact moment._

 **THE TALKING DEAD**

 **-HAVING THE TALK- Set during "Knots Untie"**

 **Rated T**

Jesus stared at the group of people before him, his eyes mainly locked to Daryl's. He was the only one who still had his gun on him, even though Michonne had made it clear that it was okay.

"Go on and head downstairs," Rick said, buttoning up his shirt.

Jesus nodded and walked down the stairs, keeping his eyes straight ahead. He passed Daryl, the Asian, and Ginger, and made his way to the living room. He could hear everyone else behind him, following.

"Table," stated Daryl, and Jesus obliged, the rest of the group falling in line.

"Are you sure you're good here?" the Asian asked, and Rick nodded. "Okay. I'm gonna go and get Maggie, she should be jus' outside." He eyed Jesus. "I'll be right back."

Rick nodded and the young man left.

Jesus sat as everyone else sat. They were all staring at him. He met each of their stares, resting on Michonne's last.

She was glaring at him.

He knew she was the one he'd have to win over.

"What's that look for?" Jesus asked her.

She looked him over before answering. "Just trying to decide if I trust you or not."

"Clearly I'm not a threat."

"Is it clear? Seems kinda foggy to me."

Jesus leaned forward. "Look, I'm not a bad guy."

"Isn't that typically what bad guys say? I mean if you _were_ bad, would you admit it?"

"Look, Rick bought me here. He can vouch for me." Rick shifted. "Surely you trust your husband—"

"He's not my husband," Michonne said coolly.

Jesus looked at her and smiled. "Well that would explain why Carl looks nothing like you." Michonne scooted closer to Jesus and he immediately held his hands up. "Relax. I was only joking."

"Don't _joke_ about my boy."

Jesus took a deep breath. "I'll prove I'm one of the good guys."

"Yah? How?" asked Michonne.

Before Jesus could answer the door opened and Maggie and Glenn walked back in. They all watched in silence as Maggie and Glenn sat down. It didn't take long for all eyes to rest on him.

They didn't know him yet, he thought, but they would.

It was time to start talking.

* * *

 **THE ONE IT TOOK – SET DURING "THANK YOU"**

 **Rated T**

David adjusted his shirt and tried to look back at the bite on the back of his shoulder, tensing in pain.

"Can I take a look?" asked Michonne.

"Please?" David said, allowing her access. Michonne glanced at the bite but kept her face neutral. "Is it bad?"

"It's about what you'd expect," responded Michonne vaguely.

"Didn't expect this."

Michonne kept quiet, glancing around, until her eyes fell back on David. He was playing with his wedding ring. "How long you been married?"

"Three months." He looked at her, already shaking his head as if he knew her question. "She wasn't my wife from before."

"How'd you meet?" Michonne wasn't sure why she was asking. Maybe to keep her calm, maybe because his voice soothed her. Maybe because she was truly interested in his story.

"It was, uh, early on. Aaron found me. I was alone, lost everything, every _one_ …by myself. I wasn't crazy, I just… I just gave up on being someone, an actual person. Know what I mean?"

She _did_ know. Boy, did she.

"I do."

"We found Betsy on the way back to the community. She still saw me. After I thought I was dead and gone, she was my first friend. Then she was more. She made me more. Even better than how it used to be."

Michonne listened to David talk, and found herself thinking of Rick. Rick, her best friend, who she had decided to see despite how difficult it was. Rick, the man who had taken her in as a complete stranger but was now here, in Alexandria because of her.

She might have been able to dwell on it. She might have been able to rotate it around in her head, think about what David was talking about, see if it applied to her and Rick, but then David kept talking.

She could have zoned him out and kept thinking, but then Annie called out, saying Scott wasn't going to make it on his leg, and all was forgotten.

It was time to focus.

By the time she made it back to Alexandria, with only Heath and Scott next to her, having lost everyone else, including David, the only part of her conversation with David she chose to remember was the note he had written in case he didn't make it home.

The rest of what was said earlier in the day no longer mattered.

* * *

 *****-VOLUNTEER- A/U set during "Last Day on Earth"*****

Michonne looked at Negan as he made his decision, her heart pounding. She watched, almost in slow motion, as Negan raised Lucille above his head.

"Wait!" cried out Michonne. Negan rolled his eyes and looked at her. "Wait," she said again, her voice shaking. Negan looked at her.

"What're you doin'?" asked Daryl.

"I am talking to the man," Michonne stated.

Negan took his baseball bat and put it between them, forcing Michonne's attention back on him. "No, you're not," he told her coldly.

"Don't you even want to hear me out?"

Negan sighed dramatically. "Fine. Enlighten me."

"No one has to die tonight."

"See, I've already lost interest." He lifted his bat again.

"Wait! Take me." Negan froze. " _No one_ say _anything_." She didn't look at Rick or Carl, but she was talking to them. "This is between me and Negan." She kept her eyes locked on his. "Take me instead. Dwight told us about your way of life. I can be one of your wives."

Just saying it made her stomach coil, but she was thinking about Carl, and Rick, and Maggie, who was clearly in pain, but from what, Michonne didn't know. Daryl wasn't doing so well either.

These people were her family.

She had to protect them.

"You want me… to take you… as one of my wives…?"

"Yes."

He approached her, looking her over, clearly appreciating her. His eyes roamed over her body, taking in every inch of her, and Michonne tried not to squirm. She already felt violated and she hated it, but it'd be worth it, she knew.

"Stand up," Negan finally said. Michonne did as she was told. "Turn around." Michonne took a deep breath. "Never mind, don't. I'll just walk around." He did, taking slow steps, seemingly appreciating every part of her.

Michonne took the time to finally look at Rick. He shook his head, twice, but she stared him down. She had to make him see she was doing this for him. For _them_. He pleaded with her, but she made it clear her mind was made up. If Negan went along with it, she would too.

"Deal," he said. "No one gets my bat _this_ time. I'll take you home with me."

He grabbed her arm, roughly, and they headed towards Negan's RV. Michonne took one last look behind her, her eyes meeting Rick's. He stared at her, and then nodded, once.

He would find her. She knew he would. She had no doubt about it.

And then Negan would pay.

It made it worth volunteering.


	37. Warm Enough

_Another soulmate A/U where you're cold until you meet your soulmate_.

 **WARM ENOUGH**

 **Rated M for smut**

Michonne was always cold. But being cold all the time was normal. Most people walked the earth cold, at least until they found their soulmate. It was just the way it was. People were cold until their soulmates warmed them up. Not cold in the sense that people without their soulmates wore jackets in the middle of summer. There was just this chill around you that never left.

When your soulmate died you were hot – always. Not so hot that you could go without a jacket in winter, but there was always enough heat around you so that you always knew – beyond a shadow of a doubt – that your soulmate had passed.

Most people spent their lives either hot or cold.

Most likely you'd never meet your soulmate, and they'd die before you ever got the opportunity. There were just too many people and too many places.

But a few people… a few lucky individuals were blessed to feel the warmth their soulmate provided. It was said that it was a pleasant feeling, neither hot nor cold, when you met your soulmate. It was perfect. It was worth it, worth the wait, according to legend, when you finally introduced yourself to each other, and your body went from cold to warm.

Michonne wasn't sure she believed in such things as soulmates. She'd never known any who'd met up with theirs. Her parents hadn't been soulmates, but they'd loved the hell out of each other. Some people didn't care.

Michonne was one of those people.

Mike definitely wasn't her soulmate, but he made her happy, treated her like a queen, and they had a million different common interests. They _worked_.

Until they didn't.

She'd never thought she'd have fallen for a coward. The fact that he'd put his own life, his own fears, his own _insecurities_ before their son was damn near unforgivable.

She nearly went dead inside.

In fact, she stayed cold inside for so long that she forgot she was ever able to feel anything else.

The first time she felt _warm_ was when she'd met _him_. Him, with his beautiful shade of forget-met-not blue eyes. Eyes that had known death – recently – because the grief was still evident.

It didn't take long to figure out what happened: man with a wedding ring on, a newborn baby, and a son, but no wife for him or a mother for the two children.

Michonne had been cold for song long that it took a while to realize she was no longer as cold.

The first time she was truly cognizant of the fact that she was no longer cold was when she had felt herself getting hot.

Unbearably hot.

The world had gone to shit a while ago but their world ending was just beginning. Being attacked by the Governor hadn't come as a surprise, but still they weren't prepared.

Not in the least.

It was devastating.

And then, in the middle of the fight, Michonne suddenly felt herself getting hotter and hotter. She looked around – momentarily distracted – realizing with each passing second her body was steadily getting hotter.

She saw the Governor choking Rick, and without thinking, without questioning it, without hesitation, she ran to him and put her katana right through the Governor's heart.

The affect was immediate. She instantly started to cool down.

Not cool down to cold.

No, not cold.

Cooler, though. _How_ cool, or when she went from cooling down to a pleasant warmth, she didn't have time to think about.

She _never_ had time to think about it.

Until one day it was all she was thinking about.

She felt _warm_.

She couldn't – or maybe wouldn't – pinpoint exactly when it happened. At first she told herself it could be anyone – even someone from Alexandria. Who else could it be?

 _Rick_ , she found herself thinking.

But she kept pushing it aside. Rick didn't seem to feel _anything_. He obviously didn't have a problem making a move on a woman. She had judged him as shy, hesitant with women almost, but the way he acted with Jessie proved otherwise.

And then one day she was dead.

Shortly after that Rick's wedding ring was off.

It made Michonne start thinking about Lori. Rick – the _real_ Rick – wouldn't have acted the way he had with Jessie. Not at all. He'd have been shy, cordial, softer.

When Rick was irrational, like he had been when they'd arrived in Alexandria, he had made some bad decisions.

Jessie was one of those bad decisions.

As things settled down, for the first time since the apocalypse, and they were given time to breathe, to think, to _feel_ , Michonne realized things were changing between them.

Things were different now.

There were times she couldn't get Rick off of her mind, especially as Carl started to heal.

She found herself waiting up for him at night to hear about his day, because she _missed_ him when they weren't together.

It was sweet.

Domestic, even.

And it was one of those nights where she realized that she was warm. Really, truly, genuinely warm.

She had time to think about it now.

She tried to think about other things.

 _Anything_.

And then he brought her back a pack of mints instead of toothpaste, and it was the absolute sweetest moment, to know that he'd been thinking about her all day long. And then their hands brushed, and she felt this tingle all over…. So she looked at him, her heart flipping summersaults as she realized he was already looking at her, almost expectantly, and her fear of misinterpreting what he was doing flew out the window.

She was warmer than ever.

And then he leaned in for a kiss and she met him half way.

It was the best experience of her life. It felt like a piece of her that had been missing had finally been filled, by him, the minute he was inside of her. It made them connected, he was the missing piece of the puzzle.

Afterwards – after they'd made their way up to his room and allowed what was supposed to happen to actually finally happen – he rolled off her, breathing hard.

"I don't know if it's because it's been so long, or if it's because we're soulmates, but that was amazing," breathed Rick.

Michonne stayed quiet for a few seconds, before asking, "How long have you known?"

He traced her stomach with his finger. "I've known since the minute you came to the prison, when you approached the fence. I felt you long before I saw you." He thought about the way his body had steadily gotten warmer, and as if he were being pulled, or drawn to her, he had made his way to the fence before he had even known she was there.

All he could do was stare.

Michonne looked at him, frowning slightly. "So Jessie….?"

Rick cupped her cheek. "Besides bein' a mistake? Someone to care about who wouldn't scare the shit outta me if I lost them."

Michonne searched his eyes for a while and then nodded. She turned on her stomach, her arm sliding up to his chest, and his hand made its way down to her ass.

She fell asleep without the blankets.

She was warm enough without them.

* * *

To the Guest reviewer who took issue in the last story with me referring to Glenn - who is Asian - as "the Asian guy," IDK how I offended you. When Michonne first gets to the prison she says the exact same thing. Jesus wouldn't have known his name, so how else would he have described him? IDT I was being offensive in the least. As a Black woman I am often described as a Black woman... I don't want to be called anything else. Should I be called "That dark-skinned American girl?" Like I don't get it. If you'd like to further discuss this, please log in next time and PM me.


	38. Momma

A/N: Guys I have NOT abandoned/forgotten about this story, or The Start of the Next World. I just moved from Dallas to DC and it's been a CRAZY two weeks. I'll start posting regularly once I settle in, but I did want to at least upload ONE story. Not sure if I'll be able to post to The Start of the Next World tomorrow, but be patient, I'll be back soon!

* * *

 _Prompt – "Judith speaks her first words to Michonne, it's "mama" and it's on her baby boy Andre's birthday. (Joy and some tears) –ShunnieIsFine_

 _This is not my first "Judith calls Michonne 'Mom'' request, but I think I'm finally ready to write it now. I don't think I'm going to make it on Andre's birthday, though. Consider this a missing scene sometime after things have kind of settled down after the Lucille BS._

 **MOMMA**

 **Rated T**

Michonne walked inside the house to find Judith, Carl, and Rick all in the living room, a baby blanket down on the floor and a few toys sprinkled on the ground.

Michonne smiled as she put her katana down next to the door. Rick reached out for her and Michonne bent down and kissed him, her lips lingering.

"How was watch?" asked Rick as Michonne took off her boots.

"Uneventful. Saw a few walkers, but nothing major." She walked next to Carl and ruffled his hair and then sat down against the couch and reached for Judith, who immediately lifted her arms at the sight of Michonne. "You, Ms. Ma'am, are going to practice walking today."

"What? She's not even one yet," chuckled out Carl.

"I had Andre walking at fourteen months. Of course that was because he weighed a thousand pounds, but _this_ one is becoming spoiled. She says jump we just ask how high." Michonne grabbed the baby's pacifier from her mouth. "And if we don't get this thing out of your mouth, you'll have an overbite."

Judith cooed and laughed, as if she was in on some big secret, and touched Michonne's face. Michonne took Judith's hands and started kissing them and Judith laughed and buried her face against Michonne's.

"Don't try that cute stuff with me." Michonne said, though a smile broke out. "We have work to do. We're going to practice walking, and you're gonna learn to how to say Carl. I get it, I get it, you refuse to say Michonne, but how about Mimi?" Michonne frowned. "That's ugly. Later on we'll work on you calling me 'Chonne." Michonne placed Judith down on the ground a few feet away from, helping her keep her balance as she stood. Then Michonne slowly let her go so that Judith was standing on her own. Michonne held out her arms. "Now. Come to Mimi."

Judith stretched out her arms and Michonne smiled. Judith smiled back.

"Mmm," mumbled Judith.

"Mimi," Michonne responded. "Can you say Mimi?" Michonne motioned her hands, trying to get Judith to walk. "Can you walk towards Mimi?"

"Mmm."

"That's it. Mimi."

"Mmmm"

"Mimi."

"Mmm."

"Mimi," laughed Michonne.

"Momma," and then Judith lost her balance and fell into Michonne's arms.

Michonne froze. She'd have thought she'd imagined it, except Carl stood still, and Rick had stiffened beside her. Michonne immediately started shaking, the past and the present wavering. She saw Andre, and then she saw Judith, and the two faces switched back and forth a few times before Michonne's eyes blurred with tears.

 _Momma_.

Without saying a word she handed Judith off to Rick and stood up, looking at no one, seeing nothing, her hands shaking. She grabbed her katana and swung open the door, the world hazy. She could hear Rick calling her in the back of her mind… somewhere, far away, his voice fuzzy enough for her to ignore him.

The last thing she remembered hearing was the door slam.

"Dad. _Dad_ ," Carl said, and Rick stopped and turned to his son. "Let her go."

"Negan is out there."

"Negan thinks he owns us. We haven't given him any reason to think otherwise. Let her go."

…

When she reached the gate it was more than obvious that Eugene shouldn't ask her any questions. He did share a brief glance with Sasha but Michonne's glare won in the end, so he let her out.

Sasha watched as Michonne made her way into the woods. A few seconds later she heard footsteps climbing up the post's latter. She wasn't surprised to see Rick next to her, his face set, his body tense.

"What's going on?" asked Sasha.

Rick's eyes scanned the woods, taking in every detail. It was times like these that Sasha remembered that Rick had been a cop before the Turn. His eyes were low and swept the outside world with little to no effort.

"You go ahead and go," Rick said to Sasha. "I'll take over."

"And you'll disappear from this post in a second if anything happens."

Rick was about to argue when they saw Michonne backing out of the woods, several walkers following her. Rick's heart lurched, and he raised his gun.

"Wait," Sasha stated. "She's not in danger. She's baiting them." Rick watched Michonne and those walkers and realized that Sasha was right. "What in the hell happened?"

Before Rick could answer Michonne attacked all the walkers and Rick watched in paralyzing fear as Michonne started killing the walkers. The muscles in her arms flexed, she stood firm, and she took out every single walker that came her way, breathing hard when she was finished. She dropped her katana and stared at all the the walkers, eventually walking towards one of the cars and leaning against it. Rick closed his eyes when Michonne slid down against he car, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

…

Rick didn't see Michonne again until later that night. When she had made it clear that she wasn't coming back into the community anytime soon, Rick finally left Sasha to continue keeping watch and decided that he'd just have to wait on her to come to him.

It was late when Rick heard the front door open. He heard her climb up the stairs, even though her steps were quiet. He sat up on his elbows expecting her to walk into the door, but he heard her pass their room.

When Michonne still hadn't returned in an hour Rick got up and walked to her old room. He saw her bloody clothes on the floor, but she wasn't in the room, and the bed was untouched. The light was off in the bathroom so Rick went to Judith's room.

He found Michonne in a rocking chair, gently rocking a sleeping Judith. She had obviously changed into a different shirt and she had her hair tied up. Judith had her hand on her breast.

Tears ran down Michonne's face as she cradled Judith, staring into the sleeping girl's face.

"I love her," Michonne said quietly.

Rick leaned against the door and watched them, not saying anything.

"Just like Carl. Just like I love you." She looked up at him then. "I was blind sighted. I didn't expect her to say it. I never imagined she would. It just caught me off guard. I just worry that one day she'll realize I'm not her mother… and then she won't wanna call me that anymore."

Another tear fell and splashed on Judith, causing her to stir. Michonne gently wiped the tear away from Judith's face.

Rick walked into the room and bent down, his hand on Michonne's knee. "It doesn't matter that you didn't have her. You _are_ her mother. It doesn't even have anything to do with us bein' together. You're all she's ever known, and you're all she'll ever know. And if anyone's earned the right to be Judith's mother, it's you. Now if it really makes you uncomfortable, we'll keep practicin' to get her to call you Mimi or 'Chonne. But that won't take away your title. You'll still be her mother."

Michonne looked at him for a long time and then nodded.

Rick stood up and kissed Michonne on the forehead, his lips lingering. "Come to bed soon."

Michonne watched him as he left, and then looked back down at Judith. She stood up and gently placed Judith back in her crib, the little girl sighing softly.

"Good night, sweet baby," whispered Michonne. "Momma loves you."

With that Michonne turned around left, gently closing the door behind her.


	39. Becoming Cool

A/N: I'm BACK! I'm all settled in for the most part! I'll be posting every day again! Thanks for your patience, and back to more prompts/requests!

* * *

 _I thought I'd write a one-shot of Richonne through Carl's eyes._

 _Most of these moments are extensions/missing scenes._

 **WATCHING IT BECOME COOL**

 **Rated T for one curse word**

Michonne shifted a little, staring. "No, Rick, I don't have a problem." Michonne's voice was soft despite the fact that his dad was being rude. Even he could feel the hostility, and though Carl couldn't necessarily blame his dad, maybe he should ease up a little.

Carl watched as Michonne reached out and handed his father the loan bullet she had found. He watched as his dad slowly enclosed his hand around the bullet, his fingertips lightly brushing hers.

He stared between them, wondering what was happening.

He wasn't sure he'd get an answer, but he kept his eyes on his father as he watched Michonne walk away.

…

The car ride back to the prison was silent, but the air wasn't tense like the ride back home had been.

She was one of them.

Carl was sure of it.

He wasn't sure if his dad would agree, but it seemed like it. The silence in the car was comfortable as Michonne drove them.

"You should stay," Rick said to her without really looking at her. Carl stared at his father from the back seat. "Really make sure your wounds are healed."

Michonne glanced at Rick – briefly – before her eyes drifted back to the road in front of them.

Then, suddenly, she was staring at him in the rearview mirror.

He gave her a slight nod and a she gave him a soft smile.

…

The first time Carl really noticed something… different was when he'd catch his dad and Michonne together around the prison a few days after they'd gotten back. He would catch them smiling at each other sometimes. They seemed to be able to communicate without having to say a word to each other.

That wasn't a big deal. His dad could do that with Daryl, too.

But it was unusual with Michonne. Sometimes Carl would see them take watch together – no one ever joined Rick during watch. He never talked, he wasn't big on small talk, yet him and Michonne would just sit up there for hours, sometimes talking, but mostly quiet.

After a while, though, Carl got used to it.

He knew something was… _different_ with them at the way his dad shut everyone out after Merle took Michonne. Even though Carl was angry at his father, his dad didn't even try and push back. He just started taking watch, all the time, around the clock, until she finally returned, and the relief on his face… it was something Carl had never recalled seeing on his dad's face in a long time.

That crisis was eventually averted, but other one came along: his dad would snap at everyone every time Michonne left to try and find the Governor. Carl wasn't even sure if he understood that consciously. It was just there, floating around in the back of his mind.

He brushed a lot of his insight away when it came to his dad and Michonne.

He didn't understand it. Not really.

But he couldn't help but grin when she handed his dad that electric razor.

…

Carl watched as his father laughed, both leaning against the door and sliding down to the couch at the same time.

"It's for you," he chuckled, his gun lowered, and he shook his head.

Carl stared at him for a few moments before finally heading towards the window. He peaked out of the curtain and gasped.

 _Michonne_.

Carl and Rick moved the couch and the next thing Carl knew, he was in Michonne's arms. He held on to her, tightly, trying to keep his own emotions under control as she held on to him.

Eventually she gently pushed him away, taking him in. She looked him over, much like a mother would her child, her eyes bloodshot, her cheeks tearstained.

"I'm okay," he assured her. She stared at him, looking him over one final time, before finally nodding and focusing her attention on his dad.

The two of them had an ability to communicate without saying a single word to each other and it had only grown the past few months. No one could read his dad like Michonne, and vice versa.

Carl could tell she knew. Without having to say a word, without having to ask a question, Carl knew that Michonne knew. All it took was one sweeping look around the house.

No Judith.

Michonne sighed, walking up to Rick, and Carl closed the door and pushed the couch back against it.

"Let me take a look at your injuries," Michonne said softly.

"He was unconscious," stated Carl, and Michonne's head whipped towards Carl, who nodded at her gaze.

Michonne reached up. "I'll get you patched up." Rick nodded, looking down and then meeting her stare again. "We'll be okay."

Rick looked at her for a long time. "Yah, we will."

…

Carl walked next to Daryl and glanced up to find his dad and Michonne talking a few feet ahead of them. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but they were close to each other.

It was funny. The two of them even walked in sync now.

The train tracks had proved to be more of a challenge than he was ready for, but his father had done everything he could to protect him.

To protect _them_.

Carl wasn't privy to what they were discussing, but he knew his dad was checking on Michonne.

Joe had said he was going to rape her too.

That didn't happen, though, his dad had seen to that, and now the two of them were up ahead, having a discussion.

His dad was probably checking on her, Carl noted.

Good. Because she needed checking in on.

…

Carl watched in slight fascination at the way his dad visibly started to relax at the sound of the children playing inside of Alexandria's walls. He had seen his dad so tense for so long that he nearly forgot what relaxed looked like. Yet his shoulders relaxed a little, and then he turned to Michonne, who was smiling.

Carl stared as Michonne reached across the car and placed her hand on top of his father's.

And kept it there.

It was nothing to rave about, just something simple, but it stuck out in Carl's mind. He wasn't sure what was going on, he just knew witnessing that scene felt like he had intruded on something that should have been and was supposed to be just for them.

He felt like that a lot around his dad and Michonne.

Sometimes it was like being the third wheel in a group of friends where the other two always had inside jokes between each other.

"You ready?" asked Michonne, and her voice was soft, offering comfort and a gentle question to help nudge Rick get out of the car.

Carl watched his dad nod at Michonne.

They were going in.

Carl didn't expect anything different. The minute Michonne said they were going, Carl knew they would.

Michonne seemed to have that effect on his dad like no one else.

…

Carl felt like a baby, but he took the high and mature road and allowed his dad and Michonne to tuck him in. It was, after all, his first night home after being shot in the eye.

He watched them together, one on each side of his bed, as they both put him to bed, pulling his blanket up to his chin as if he were still a little boy.

It was so… _domestic_ : Michonne in her bathrobe, them tucking him in, and then standing at the bed asking if he needed anything else. Carl shook his head and as if the two of them could read each other's minds – which they probably could – the two of them bent down at the exact same time and kissed his forehead. Then Michonne and his father walked towards the door, both of them stopping at the door and turning to look at him.

"I'm good, I promise," Carl stated, and his dad nodded.

Michonne gave Carl a soft smile and then glanced at his father. The two shared intimate code messages with each other and then Michonne turned off the light and closed the door.

…

Michonne taped the bandage and stepped back.

"There. You're all set to go and hang with Enid now," smiled Michonne, and Carl grimaced and Michonne frown. "What?"

"You don't think I… look like the Governor?"

"Carl," Michonne whispered. "Is that what you think?" He shrugged, not meeting her eye. "You are _nothing_ like him, Carl." He continued to look at the floor so Michonne took her finger and lifted his chin until he looked at her. " _Nothing_. Okay?"

He nodded. "Do you know where my dad is?" Carl asked.

Michonne blinked at him and then sighed. "He and Daryl left earlier. They met up with Glenn and Maggie and Olivia to see how much food we have left. I think the two of them are getting itchy and wanna go on a run soon."

"We kinda need to. You keep borrowing our toothpaste," grinned Carl.

"We'd all need toothpaste if you two brushed as much as I did."

Carl laughed. "You brush like five times a day. No one should brush that much."

"Yah, whatever. Get outta here."

Carl made his way downstairs and as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs the front door opened and his dad walked in.

"Hey. I just asked Michonne where you were."

"Inventory," stated Rick, looking behind Carl. "Where is she?"

"Upstairs. I think she's about to shower."

"Yah, I suspect it's about that time," Rick said absentmindedly. "Where are you headed?"

"Enid's," shrugged Carl, and Rick nodded.

"Well all right then."

It wasn't until his father scratched his nose that Carl noticed it.

His wedding ring was gone.

Carl blinked for several moments, and then watched his father as he made his way to the kitchen, clearly going about his daily routine, not a care in the world.

But it was different. Everything was different.

Carl wondered if his dad had done it for himself, or for Michonne.

As Carl made his way to Enid's, he couldn't help but wonder if it was both.

…

Carl wasn't sure what had woken him up. For one thing, no one ever slept particularly hard in the apocalypse. He just remembered hearing something strange enough to grab the gun from under his pillow.

He left his room and looked across the hall. Michonne's bedroom door was open and her room was empty. Her bed didn't even look slept in. He made his way towards Judith's room. She was still sleeping peacefully in her crib.

He heard a door close and then the sound of footprints heading towards the stairs. His heart hammering, he noticed a man with long hair walking to the stairs.

 _Who the hell_?

He made his way quietly towards the man, and upon approach, cocked his gun and pointed it to the back of the man's head.

"What the hell are you doin' in our house?" asked Carl coldly.

He watched as the man slowly looked up. "I'm uhhh, sitting on the steps, looking at this painting, waiting for your mom and dad to get dressed."

Carl tilted his head to the side, slightly confused.

 _Mom and dad_?

"Hi. I'm Jesus."

And just like that, his father came running down the hall, still buckling his pants, his shirt off, Michonne behind him, lowering her shirt.

He stared at them, a little speechless as it dawned on him what had happened, and he slowly turned back around to the man named Jesus. Before he could say anything else the front door opened and Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, and Abraham rushed up the stairs, their guns drawn.

"It's okay," Michonne said to the group, and they all lowered their guns, except for Daryl. The rest of them were staring at Michonne and Rick with the same surprise that Carl had.

"So let's talk," his dad said, as if there wasn't a huge elephant in the room, and together they all made their way downstairs to the dining room.

Carl sat next to Michonne, and without meaning to, he looked at her, a smirk on his face.

It was about fucking time.

…

Carl listened to his father explain that he had every intention of telling him about him and Michonne. Carl could genuinely care less. He kept his face blank and somewhat stony until he heard one magic word or phrase.

He would not support some atypical, random, one night stand from his father. Not with Michonne.

"This… this is different," his father finally said, Judith in his arms.

 _Bingo_.

Carl felt himself smile. He wanted to say a million things, ranging from asking what took so long to just plainly exclaiming ' _finally_ , but he resisted.

His father was clearly nervous, wondering how Carl would take the news, but he hadn't said anything that Carl hadn't suspected or hoped would happen or decided _needed_ to happen. He'd have been a fool not to know this was coming, and was only surprised because it had taken so long.

He thought back to that run, which felt like years ago now, and thought about his dad's and Michonne's transition over the past few months.

This had been a long time coming.

"It's cool," Carl stated, and his dad couldn't hide the relief on his face.

Carl wasn't sure what his dad had expected him to say. It had _been_ cool as far as Carl was concerned.

In fact, cool was somewhat of an understatement.

Kind of like his dad describing Michonne as 'different.'

It had been different between the for a while now, the same way it had been becoming cool for just as long.

* * *

A/N: I added the f bomb in Carl's thoughts because I feel like way down deep in my Shondo Carl's probably a man who cusses LOL.


	40. Let's Talk About Sex

_Prompt—"Carl's first real kiss and it doesn't have to be Enid, maybe someone from the_ _  
_ _Hilltop." –ShunnieIsFine. This was difficult, I had to think about this one because I wasn't sure how to make this Richonne… was I gonna have the two of them spying on Carl? So I changed things up a little bit. Title from that one all-female hip-hop group known as SALT N PEPA!_

 **LET'S TALK ABOUT SEX**

 **Rated T+ for suggestive themes ;)**

Michonne walked into the house, her eyes searching out for Rick. She only found Daryl for once lounging on the couch.

"Hey," Michonne said. "Where's Rick?"

"Upstairs with Little Ass-Kicker," responded Daryl. Michonne nodded a thank you and headed upstairs, passing her and Rick's room and going to the last room down the hall. She found Rick changing Judith; she must have had an accident. He looked up when he saw her and flashed her a smile.

"Hey," he said. "How was watch?"

"Pretty uneventful," said Michonne. "It was after watch where I got an eyeful." Rick arched an eyebrow, clearly sensing Michonne was bothered about something. "I was headed to Olivia's and passed Enid's place… I noticed her and Carl kissing in her living room." Rick stared at her. "Actually they were more like… making out on her couch." Rick picked up Judith. "I got Olivia to go in there to keep an eye out on them." Rick sighed, grabbing Judith's sippy-cup. "Have you talked to Carl about sex?"

Rick dropped the bottle. " _What_?" Rick asked as he bent down and picked up the bottle.

Michonne sighed. "Your son is not a little boy anymore, Rick."

"He doesn't have _time_ to think about sex," argued Rick.

"Really? Because his father seems to find enough time to think about it, and act on it, quite frequently."

"Yah, well, I have you sleepin' next to me every night." He sent her a smile. "You don't exactly make it easy."

"Can you be realistic about this please? If you don't stop this now that might be what Carl ends up doing." Rick shook his head disbelievingly. Michonne tilted her head. "The last thing we need is a hormonal teenage boy running around. Do _you_ wanna deal with a teenaged pregnancy in the apocalypse?"

Rick put Judith down. "I guess when I thought about this talk it always consisted of me jus' handin' him a box of condoms and tellin' him to protect himself and be smart at all times."

Michonne's mouth dropped open. "So if Judith was sixteen would you hand her a birth control subscription and tell her the same thing?"

" _What_? _Hell_ no."

"Okay then. It sounds just as ridiculous in regards to Carl. We should teach them about valuing sex. It's not to be shared with anybody and everybody."

"Well my dad handed me a box of condoms, and I've only ever been with you and Lori." His blue eyes started twinkling as he stared at her. "How many men have _you_ been with?"

"You're an asshole," Michonne stated. "It's not the same thing. You met Lori in high school and then married her, of _course_ she was the only one you'd have been with before me."

He leaned against the crib. "So you're not gonna answer the question?"

Michonne glared at him. "Yes, I may have slept with more people than you, but I didn't lose my virginity until I graduated from college, and every person I was with sexually I was in love with."

"Same here," shrugged Rick, with that same cocky smile on his face.

Michonne shook her head. "This is not about _me_. This is about _you_ talking to Carl about being _smart_. As of right now, the only person I think who's a suitable role model for Carl is Daryl." Rick laughed. "I'm serious."

"Why is our first real fight as a couple about our kids?" Michonne sighed and Rick walked up to her, pulling her to him. "I will talk to him about sex, okay? And it won't involve a box of condoms. It's not like we have a box to give him anyway."

"Yah, you make sure of that." Michonne smiled reluctantly.

"Stop worryin', okay? I'll handle it."

"Wait until Judith starts kissing boys, we'll see how calm you are."

Rick stiffened in her arms. "Judith won't have that problem. No one else will ever have kids, besides us, and that'll be her brother or sister, which, apocalypse or not, is still absolutely not okay."

"Don't forget about Maggie's child."

"Maybe she'll have a girl?" He sounded hopeful.

"She could kiss a girl, too."

"No. She's gonna be a nun. I'll have Father Gabriel train her."

Michonne laughed. "Let me know how that works out for you."

"You'll be right here watching it happen," grinned Rick.

Michonne sent him a blazing smile and gave him a soft kiss. "You damn right. Now go talk to your son about sex."

"Can _we_ talk about sex later on?"

Michonne laughed again. "Have I _ever_ been able to say no?"

Rick smirked, wrapping his arm around her waist.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

A/N: Daryl "lounging on the couch" should give you a hint about the timeframe for this… it's after "All Out War" and sometime during the two-year time jump in "A New Beginning." YES, I'm predicting Daryl survives LOL.


	41. Through the Fence

A/N: One of the first Richonne one-shots I wrote, thought I'd take it back to the very beginning. =]

* * *

 _Takes place at the end of "Hounded" and the beginning of "When the Dead Come Knocking." Anyone else wanna know what the hell Rick was thinking when he first saw Miconne at the prison fence? I KNOW I'VE WONDERED! This is that story. You're welcome =)_

 **THROUGH THE FENCE**

 **Rated T for mild language**

Rick wasn't sure what he heard. The walkers just sounded… different, he supposed. It was enough for him to hand Judith off to Carl and walk towards the gate.

It didn't take long for him to make her out, and he immediately grabbed for his gun. She wasn't trying to hide, he realized, and in all honesty, she couldn't. How the hell could he miss her? She certainly had a presence about her, enough so that he couldn't look away. When he did look around, it was only to make sure that she was alone, that no one else was with her, and then his blue eyes were right back on her.

Time stopped.

It had to have.

His breath caught in his throat as he slowly approached her, and suddenly he couldn't hear anything. All he saw, felt, heard, sensed, was this woman. It was almost as if he were hyper-sensitive to her entire being.

She was beautiful.

It was his first conscious thought, and it was gone before he could even admit he'd thought something like that. The thought was so fleeting that he wondered if he had even ever thought it or if he was just losing his mind.

It wouldn't be the first time.

He took a few more tentative steps towards her and her dark brown eyes stayed glued to his. He was frozen, completely and utterly unable to move. He was transfixed, and he wondered what kind of magic she possessed to have this kind of hold on him, a hold strong enough to make him acutely aware that he was a _man_ , and she… was a woman.

He felt his chest tighten. He bit the inside of his jaw as he tried to remain focused. His body was tense, his heart was pounding, and his legs were eager to continue walking towards her. His brain, which was still working despite the fact that the rest of his body was currently betraying him without his brains' consent, told his legs to stay, so he didn't walk any closer, even though he wanted to.

He wasn't sure why, but once again, he was drawn to her.

She gripped the fence and he noticed her gloved hands. She had a weapon on her, a sword it looked like, but no gun as far as he could tell.

Her other hand held a basket of baby formula.

His initial thought should have been Glenn and Maggie, but it wasn't.

Really every thought was filled with who she was, where she had come from, and what it is she wanted.

He was pretty good at reading people. It was an innate skill that helped him make rank and become a Sherriff. Somewhere, down deep, he knew she wasn't a threat, but he couldn't quite put his finger on anything about her.

His mind was all over the place.

He'd never seen anything like her.

He sensed strength. She was definitely a soldier. There was pain in those eyes, but fire as well, and a quiet determination that literally nearly knocked him off his feet.

He was staring, and hard enough for a piece of him to realize he should feel and be ashamed, but he _wasn't_.

He took her in, took in everything about her, and came up with a million different things: she was trouble, it'd be stupid and risky to let her in, he didn't know her, she didn't know them.

But one thing he couldn't say was that she was a threat.

She didn't give off that vibe.

She finally broke eye contact first, once a walker got too close and started snarling at her. She turned her head, eyeing the thing, and Rick felt his heart start to beat even faster.

He didn't want her to get bit, but still, he stood there, immobile, taking in everything her entire being.

Rick didn't come back to until he heard Carl running towards him, and suddenly he was back to the present, back to reality.

The woman glared at him, and then slowly backed away as she started to defend herself. She was skilled, Rick saw. Incredibly skilled.

"Should we help her?" Carl asked.

Rick couldn't immediately answer, he just started heading towards his son, who'd already bypassed one gate. He made his way towards the gate, keeping his eyes glued to the mysterious stranger. He watched, almost in awe, as she took down another walker. It was obvious she was strong, more than a fighter but a warrior, and he was in the process of _really_ admiring her when she stabbed a walker, kicked it off of her sword, and then fell back.

He wasn't sure why his heart lurched, and it was something he wouldn't remember for a long time: the paralyzing fear he felt when she fell. He would tell himself that he felt nothing in that moment, nothing but anger when he heard Carl take a shot to put down a walker.

"Carl!" called Rick, and his son tossed him the keys. He noticed the walkers coming towards the sound of the gunfire. "Shit!" He wrestled open the gate and fired two shots, taking out two different walkers while Carl ran and grabbed the basket of baby food.

He kicked her sword with his feet and looked at her. She was passed out cold. He bent down and started feeling her, checking for any bites.

She was clean.

He didn't know why he did it. He might not ever find out. She'd tell him once, not too long from now, that he could have taken the baby formula and left her out there, and he'd never give her a real answer.

He wasn't sure if he believed in things like divine purpose anymore. But sometimes… sometimes things like fate stepped in.

He would have left anyone else out there. That much he knew, beyond a shadow of doubt. He'd have never risked the prison for one lone person, standing outside the fence.

But that day, when he picked her up and allowed her into the prison, into their lives, would be one day that would change his life forever.


	42. Never Can Say Goodbye

_Apparently everyone loved reading about Jealous Rick. I stand by my original assumption that it's OOC, but you all love it, so I have another story that's SLIGHT Jealous Rick. It takes place between the season finale of Season 3 "Welcome to the Tombs" and the first episode of Season 4 "30 Days Without an Accident." BASICALLY it takes place during the timeframe where Daryl and Michonne were hunting the Governor. In fact, consider this a few days before the first day of the 30 days without said accident._

 **NEVER CAN SAY GOODBYE**

 **Rated T**

Rick had just finished making his rounds and checking in on the people from Woodbury, making sure they were still comfortable, when Carl called out for him.

"Dad! Dad! They're back." And just like that, Carl was gone again, Rick right behind him. He made his way out of the prison and towards the gate, where Carol was letting them through.

It didn't take long for him to realize something was wrong. Usually Michonne was out of the car before it stopped, especially if Carl was around – there was no sense in prolonging it, she didn't want anyone to worry, so she would open her door, a smile on her face, to let them know she was all right.

She didn't do that in this case.

In fact, he didn't see her in the front seat.

"Dad," whispered Carl.

Daryl's door swung open and he got out the car. "Don't panic," he said immediately, and Rick felt his heart drop down to his stomach. "She's fine. Jus' a sprained ankle."

Rick immediately headed towards the car, his teeth set, and decided he was going to see for himself. He swung open the back door, convinced that it nearly flew off its hinges. Michonne was in the back seat, her leg wrapped, and propped up.

He didn't say a word – he didn't trust himself to speak at the moment – and bent down to help her out of the car.

"I got it," Michonne said. He sent her a look that her shutting up. She kept her eyes on him, taking in how tense he was. "You're upset."

"No _shit_ ," spat Rick.

"It's just a sprained ankle."

"I _know_ what it is." When she was out of the car and leaning against it for balance he looked her over, checking for other marks. "What happened?"

"Would you believe I fell?"

"No," Rick said dryly.

"Well, I did."

He glared at her, stepping closer so that Carl wouldn't hear him. "Don't _fuck_ with me, Michonne." His voice was low and she stared at him. "Did you guys find the Governor? Did he do that to you?"

"I wouldn't lie to you, Rick." Her voice was calm. She was using that same _stupid_ tone she always did when she felt like he was being unreasonable. Sometimes he wished she lost her temper like everyone else. It'd be nice to let some of this frustration out on someone, particularly her, but she never took the bait. "I'm fine. It's just a sprained ankle." She paused. "We didn't find him."

Rick bit his jaw, staring at her, and then nodded, backing away. He needed to get his emotions under control. He didn't even know why he was so angry.

Aside from the fact that he hadn't wanted her to leave in the first place.

Carl and Rick had tried to talk her out of it for _days_ when she had first mentioned trying to find the Governor. They thought they might have gotten through to her, only Daryl thought it was a good idea.

Stupid, both of them.

"Dad?" Carl brought him back to reality.

"I'm fine," Michonne said to Carl with a smile. "Just a sprained ankle. It happens to the best of us."

"Thought you were invincible for a while there," stated Rick.

Michonne stared at him. "Is that why you dug your finger into my bullet wound? Because you thought I wouldn't bleed? Because I was certainly answering your questions."

"Jesus," breathed Rick. "You remember the worst things about me." And just like that, the tension was gone between them. "Come on. Let's get you inside."

…

Rick found Daryl a few days later in an upstairs cell. Mostly everybody was at dinner, but not Daryl. Rick motioned for Daryl to follow him, which he did. Together they walked towards the other side of the prison so that Rick could glance outside. Michonne and Carl were outside.

"I don't want you and Michonne goin' out there anymore," Rick said without preamble. For some reason Daryl actually looked shocked. How he hadn't seen this coming was beyond Rick. He thought it'd be obvious. "I know you're plannin' on leavin' to look for the Governor again. I don't want you to."

"So we should, wha', jus' sit around and wait for _him_ to attack us?"

"It's been weeks, Daryl. The trail's gone cold, you've said yourself after these past few times."

"But—"

"Is it worth it? Is it _really_ worth it to keep goin' out there?" pressed Rick.

"Yah, it is," Daryl snapped.

Rick sighed and looked away. "I know you wanna avenge Merle's death—"

"Don't act like you care. I know none of ya gave a damn about Merle but he was my brother."

"I get that, but killing yourself won't bring him back. The same with Andrea. I know that's why she's lookin' for him."

Daryl eyed Rick for a few moments. "Is that what this is about? Michonne goin' back out there?"

"It's about _both_ of you," argued Rick. "She was hurt last time, it could be you next time."

"We're two of your bes' fighters," Daryl stated.

"Which is why you two should be here. What if the Governor _does_ attack while you two are away? Then what?"

Daryl turned away, shaking his head. "You ain't gonna get her to stop lookin' for him. She's even angrier than I am. She ain't gonna rest 'til she kills 'im."

"You don't know that. We could talk to her."

"She's done talkin', Rick."

"You don't know that," Rick repeated.

"I _do_. She's the only one who understands like I do. She wants his blood, man, and I don't blame her. I _agree_ with her."

"What is with you two, anyway? What's really goin' on?"

Daryl glared at Rick. "He killed my brother, and Andrea."

"That's not what I meant," snapped Rick.

"Then why don't you say what you mean, then? Go on, spit it out."

"What the hell is with you two?" The question spilled from his lips before he could stop it, and he had no idea where the hell it came from. To make matters worse, he kept going. "What do you do when you two are alone?"

Daryl stiffened and stared at Rick for a long time.

Rick had no words. He had no business asking that question. What Daryl and Michonne did – _if_ they did anything at all – was none of his business. He didn't even know why he _cared_.

Yet he couldn't help but think about it every now and then. They spent _a lot_ of time together, making plans and deciding where they'd go next. Then they were gone days – sometimes _weeks_ – alone, and… and sometimes Rick's mind couldn't help but wander.

"Hey." Both Daryl and Rick turned to find Carol walking up the stairs. "What's going on? I thought I heard shouting."

Rick looked away, briefly glancing at Daryl.

"Rick's an idiot, is all," Daryl said, and Carol halted at his tone.

"Well you two need to kiss and make up. Your dinner's getting cold."

"We'll be down in a minute," said Daryl, and Carol nodded. He turned to Rick. "There ain't nothin' goin' on between me and Michonne, man."

"I know," Rick said immediately. "I know," he added again, even softer this time. He glanced out the window in time to see Michonne and Carl walking inside.

"You want me to stay, then fine. I won't go lookin' for the Governor anymore. But mark my words: it ain't gon' stop Michonne."

Rick sighed. "Maybe you could talk to her."

"No I ain't, either. Wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea about us or nothin'."

He started to walk off. "Daryl. _Daryl_ ," Rick called, but Daryl ignored him, walking down the stairs. " _Shit_." He had no clue how that went to shit so fast.

He was losing it. He wasn't ready to admit that he'd been jealous of Daryl. It made no sense. None. Hell, he'd just lost Lori not too long ago. Whatever this feeling was, he pushed it away.

He was just worried, that was all, worried about his best friend and a woman who'd proven that she belonged here. Satisfied with that thought, Rick made his way downstairs to eat.

…

Later that night Michonne came to his cell. He'd just settled in for the night, having gave Judith to Carl since he'd have to take watch in the middle of the night, when Michonne's shadow fell upon him.

"Did you tell Daryl not to look for the Governor with me?" She'd never been one to beat around the bush.

"I told Daryl that I didn't want you two goin' out there anymore," sighed Rick.

"All this because I twisted my ankle?"

"All this because it's _dangerous_ and you two shouldn't be out there."

Michonne looked away from Rick and then stepped into his cell. "You seem to be thick-skulled, so I'll say this as plainly as possible: I will not rest until I find the Governor. Now either you're with that, or you're not. But you'll accept it."

"Michonne—"

"I leave again tomorrow, whether you like it or not."

"I don't," he told her, standing. "I don't like it one bit. It's reckless. You're acting like the woman who disappeared in the middle of a gunfight in Woodbury."

"No, I am acting like a friend who's trying to avenge her friend's death." Michonne hardly ever raised her voice, but when she took this tone, that tone that couldn't be argued with, all Rick could do was nod.

Daryl had been right.

He wouldn't be able to stop her.

Her voice softened a notch. "I'll be back as soon as I can, all right?"

"Yah," Rick responded reluctantly.

"I'll see you when I leave. I'll wait until your guard duty shift is over."

He swallowed down the rush he felt at her waiting a few hours. He just gave her a nod, pretending to be unbothered.

When she met him at the bottom of the guard post she gave him a soft smile. "I'll be back soon."

"I'm countin' on it," said Rick. Michonne stared at him. "Did you pack enough food?"

"I did."

Rick nodded. "I'll see you later."

He nodded curtly and watched her as she walked away.

He wouldn't tell her goodbye. He wasn't so good at those, and had no plans to start now.

With a little bit of luck, maybe he'd be saying hello again soon.

He wasn't one to hope too much anymore, but the thought of seeing her again made him happy.

And he could use a little happy. Certainly more than he could use another goodbye.


	43. Home From Watch

A/N: Hey yall! I know I JUST said I'd be back to posting regularly, BUT I started a new job this week so life's been hectic. Soon as I get into a regular routine I PROMISE I'll be back to posting regularly. I could use some more prompts in the meantime! Thanks =]

* * *

 _Just a simple little fluff piece_.

 **HOME FROM WATCH**

 **Rated M for smut**

Michonne gave a soft smile to Sasha and handed her all the equipment.

"It's been a quiet night," stated Michonne, and Sasha nodded. "See you tomorrow."

"Thanks again for switching with me. See ya."

Michonne made her way down the guard post, her boots crunching the colorful leaves. She made her way into the house and took off her jacket and shoes. She headed upstairs, taking special care to be quiet, and slipped into the bedroom, closing the door as softly as she could behind her. She walked over to her side of the bed and placed her katana down at her nightstand, and then laid her gun on top of a book. She started peeling off her many layers – who knew the East Coast could be so damn _cold_? – and then gently let the covers back from the bed. She climbed in, welcoming the warmth, and let out a quiet sigh.

A few seconds later Rick wrapped his arms around her, his lips on her neck.

She sighed, defeated. "One day I'll master how to get into this bed without waking you," she told him.

"I don't sleep well unless you're next to me," he mumbled in her neck. "I heard the front door open." Michonne rolled her eyes but wasn't the least bit surprised. "How was watch duty?"

"Cold," responded Michonne, and as if on cue, she shivered.

"Mmm. I can warm you up." His hands automatically slipped under her shirt, his tongue darting out and tasting her neck.

"Sure, if you think you can get the job done."

"Oh, a challenge?" Rick nudged her until she was laying on her back and then his lips caught hers. "I missed you."

"I was only gone for a few hours."

"All night is not a few hours."

"If you'd been asleep you wouldn't have missed me at all."

"Wrong. I miss you every time you're not with me."

Michonne laughed softly and ran her fingers through his curls. He covered her mouth with his and Michonne realized there would be no more talking tonight.

At least not words that weren't the other's name.

Michonne slid her hands into Rick's shorts and he hissed, cursing softly as she gripped him. Without really knowing what he was doing – it was hard to think when she was stroking him – he removed her shirt so that they could be skin-to-skin.

He _loved_ her skin. She was so sexy, and he marveled in the way it glistened with gold even in the middle of the night. She tasted like honey, like syrup: rich and sweet. She let out a throaty moan as she he started kissing down her body, his tongue leaving a trail. Her stomach muscles flexed as she gasped with pleasure.

She moaned softly and grabbed his hair, forcing his face back to hers so that she could kiss him again. She sucked on his bottom lip until she couldn't take it anymore, and then injected her tongue into his mouth. He sucked on her for several seconds until they both broke away for air.

Michonne pushed him away, finally removing her hand and helping him pull down his shorts. They did the same for her pants. She had wanted foreplay three seconds ago but now suddenly she was desperate for more.

Rick seemed to have other ideas in mind.

He started kissing her body again and she squirmed, saying his name with a sound that was a mixture between a moan and a whine.

"What? You challenged me."

"To make me hot, not tease me all night," Michonne told him.

He ignored her and put his face between her legs. She yelped when he dove in and he looked up at her, a grin on his face. "Wake the whole neighborhood, then." She glared at him and he chuckled, continuing his administration while covering her mouth with one of his hands.

He waited until she was close to the edge before stopping.

She gripped his hair as she stared him down and then pushed him off of her. She climbed on top of him to return the favor and had him squirming.

Rick motioned for her to stop and he climbed back on top of her, her body at the edge of the bed. With little to no patience left he spread her legs and entered her in one swift move. He dug his fingers into her hips and immediately started pumping, their pace fast and hard. Her first orgasm came almost immediately.

He pulled out and turned her over, climbing on top of her. Moving her hair aside he buried his face in the back of her neck, breathing deeply, as the two of them found their rhythm again.

He had to cover her mouth again – not all that surprising – and gently bit her ear. After a few moments he heard himself start to grunt as the pleasure started to consume him.

He let out a low growl as she tightened around him, her body bucking, and he let out a string of curses as he emptied himself into her.

Barely able to breathe he collapsed on top of her, wrapping his arms around her waist so that his palms were resting on her stomach.

"I think it's pretty safe to say your challenge was not only accepted, but the mission was accomplished." Rick's breath was short as he spoke.

"I can't move," was Michonne's response.

Rick grinned and kissed her neck. "Welcome home."


	44. The Sheriff and the Counselor

A/N: Hey yall! So the hours for my new job are 7a to 4p so I'm trying to work out when to post these stories every day. Back when I worked retail I would post by 10a but I'm at work during that time now, so it looks like I'll have to start posting in the evenings. I hope that works for everybody. I liked doing it during the day because I know people have the entire day to look at them - maybe on their lunch breaks or at work or something - and at night people are with their families. I try to be respectful. I'll see how posting in the evenings work out but maybe I'll start posting super early before work.

Also: OMG DID ANY OF YOU CATCH THE BET AWARDS LAST NIGHT? Yall... YALL! The Prince Tribute was to DIE FOR... and Jesse William's speech sounded like Dr. King, Malcolm X, Huey P Newton, Muhammad Ali, and every other Civil Rights Activist EVER all combined. It was SO moving. "Just because we are magic doesn't mean that we aren't real." EVERYTHING about that man is profound, from them blue eyes to every word he speaks.

Okay enough about that, cus I COULD go on all day/night. Here's your story =]

* * *

 _Prompt – "The Sheriff and the Counselor, Rick and Michonne are both single, with two_ _sons and a daughter...Carl, Andre and Judith. (AU) You can also make them_ _married if you like._ _" –ShunnieIsFine. Thought your first line was a great title LOL._

 _SIDENOTE: This is NOT related to my one-shot 'The Governor's Ball.' It's a different A/U, and I really wanna stress that THIS Universe will produce sequels, the Governor's Ball will NOT. So basically my first A/U one shot will stand alone. I WILL take more prompt requests for THIS A/U Universe =)_

 **THE SHERIFF AND THE COUNSELOR**

 **Rated T+ for a pretty heavy make out scene**

Michonne stuck her key in the door and opened it, immediately being greeted with noise: the blast of the television in one room, the radio blaring in another. She could hear Judith crying, Andre yelling, and Carl was clearly playing video games.

On top of that, something was burning.

Sighing she placed her briefcase down next to the door and placed her keys on the antique table against the wall. The clicking of her heels was muted due to the amount of noise coming from everywhere.

She began to feel overwhelmed when she walked into the kitchen to find Rick on the phone, Judith on his hip crying, Andre making a mess in his high-chair, and smoke coming out of a pot. At her entrance Judith tried to reach out for her, Andre yelled out, "Momma," and Rick spun around, his eyes locking with hers.

"I gotta call you back, Daryl, Michonne jus' walked in." He stared at her. "If you don't hear from me by tomorrow, she's killed me. What? No. No, she doesn't look happy at all." Rick watched warily as Michonne walked up to him, taking the phone from him.

"Goodbye, Daryl," stated Michonne, and she hung up. Then she grabbed Judith, who stopped crying immediately, and she glared at Rick. " _What_ is going on?"

"Would you believe I was actually tryin' to make you dinner?"

Michonne shook her head and walked to the stove, switching the stove off and removing the pot from the burner. "Order pizza." She dropped the pot into the sink, handed Judith back to Rick, and headed upstairs, her head pounding.

A few seconds later she heard the television being turned down, the radio being switched off, and Judith and Andre were quiet. It didn't take long for Michonne to hear Rick's footsteps at the door. He opened it and then closed it behind him. She turned away from him and started taking off her jacket, intent on ignoring him, but he snaked his arms around her.

"What's wrong?" His voice was soft, his grip firm, and she knew she was trapped. Sometimes, on a rare occasion, he bit back when she was irritated, and they'd have a fight, but most of the time he knew her and was patient. His lips found her neck, his stubble tickling her cheek.

Michonne leaned against him. "I forgot it was our weekend to have all the kids," she admitted quietly. "All I wanted was a glass of wine, and to screw my husband's brains out, but…." She shrugged and started to wrestle out of his grip, but he pressed himself into her.

"I can help with that last one. You think your husband would be mad?" He gripped her breasts.

She turned and faced him, a smile on her face. "What my husband doesn't know, won't hurt him." She kissed him, and it was obvious he was ready for her. "Rick, we can't. The kids—"

"Are fine. Carl's watching them."

"Carl's playing with his video games."

"I told Carl that I'd let him have his own pizza if he watched Judith and Andre while I checked in on you. He didn't even know you were home, which is unlike you. Normally you greet everyone when you come in. So I'm gonna ask you again: what's wrong?"

Michonne sighed heavily and walked away, unbuttoning her shirt. "It was just a long day at the office again."

Rick nodded, suddenly remembering that it was Friday. "You had Carol again."

Michonne shook her head. "Our job as psychologists is to help people reach their own conclusions. Even though most people think we give out advice, we don't. But some days I just want to shake Carol and tell her to pack her and Sophia's bags and leave Ed. There has to be _someone_ who can take them in. She's afraid of him, Rick. They're in marriage counseling and it couldn't be more obvious he doesn't want to be there…."

Rick sighed. "Well for her sake, and her daughter's, I hope she gets it together. I know all too well what can happen in an abusive relationship."

"Rick…." Michonne's eyes fluttered closed. "I forgot you had court today. I've been so wrapped up in my own bullshit I actually forgot about the Anderson case. What happened?"

"Well my investigation is over," he told her. He stared at her. "I was cleared. It was obvious I was defending myself when I shot Pete. I'm expected back at work first thing Monday morning."

"Thank God," breathed Michonne, walking up to him and hugging him. "I know it's been a long week."

"For both of us," Rick said, placing his hands on her hips.

"And how's Jessie?"

"I don't know…." Rick turned away, walking towards their dresser. "She's not really talkin' to me, or anyone."

"She involved _you_. You've been dealing with her domestic abuse charges for the past six months, then she called _you_ after Pete beat her up in front of her sons. Then Pete attacked you and you were forced to defend yourself. Don't let her make you feel guilty for doing your job."

"When I took this job I just wanted to break up fist fights. I didn't think I'd actually have to kill anyone."

"It was self-defense, Rick."

"I _know_. It's hard to remember that sometimes."

She approached him. "Hey. Do you need me to recommend one of my colleagues to council you?" Rick looked at her but shook his head. She reached out and touched his cheek. "No matter what… I'm still with you. You know that, right?" He nodded, leaning in for a kiss.

He'd meant for it to be a thank you kiss, something to show her how much he loved her, but it quickly escalated when she sucked on his bottom lip. His heart dropped down to his stomach, and all the blood in the upper half of his body drained down south.

He pulled her close and turned them around, pushing her against their dresser. He picked her up and placed her on the dresser, knocking over some of her bottles of perfume. His lips found their way to her neck as he lifted up her skirt.

He was on his belt buckle when there was a knock on the door.

Michonne's head fell back against the mirror and Rick dropped his head to her chest, breathing in deeply. With another knock she gently pushed him away, getting down and heading towards the closet.

"Yah," Rick finally said.

Carl stuck his head in. "Hey, the pizza guy's here."

Rick nodded. "All right. Be right down." Carl closed the door and Michonne stepped back out of the closet in nothing but her bra and panties.

"Easy, Sheriff," grinned Michonne at his look. "I'm just about to shower. Don't worry about waiting for me to eat."

He looked her over. "Actually can you go give the pizza guy the money? My wallet's downstairs." Michonne blinked at him. "Please?" Michonne just continued to stare at him. He walked to the bathroom and grabbed her robe, handing it to her.

Shaking her head, she took it, put it on, and left downstairs.

…

It took Michonne awhile to get back upstairs, like Rick knew it would. She would want to get the kids their plates, pour them drinks, then she'd feed Judith, talk to Carl about his day, the works.

By the time she got back upstairs, Rick had everything ready.

Michonne walked back into her bedroom to the scent of vanilla and lavender.

"Rick?"

"In here," he called, and Michonne walked to the bathroom. She paused as she took in the scene before her: Rick, sitting on the edge of the tub, lighting a few remaining candles. The tub was full of bubbles and rose petals. "I thought you deserved a bath, and that glass of wine."

Michonne walked up to him, bending down to kiss him softly. "What I _need_ is for _us_ to have a vacation, just the two of us." He nodded, reaching up for another kiss. "We need to talk to Mike and Lori about keeping the kids for an extra few days."

"I don't think that'll be a problem for Lori. Carl… talked to her about wanting to live here… permanently."

Michonne blinked at him. "What?"

"He hasn't said anything to me yet. I think he wanted to talk to us together, but Lori didn't want us blind-sighted. I was going to talk to you about it later." Michonne stared at him. "We don't have to make any decisions now. I know a lot's changing, and quickly. One minute we were dating, the next we're married, Carl's starting his second year of high school, Andre is about to start school and Judith is in the midst of her terrible twos, I got promoted…. I know it's a lot."

"Do you remember when you told me you loved me for the first time?" asked Michonne, softly, standing up.

"Of course."

"Do you remember what you asked of me before you said those infamous words?"

Rick nodded. "I told you that Carl admired you, that he was having a hard time with Lori, and that he needed you."

"You also said that I could let you know if I ever needed a break. What did I say then?"

"That you were done takin' breaks."

"And what do you think it means, when I tell you I'm with you? What do you think I meant when I agreed to be your wife?" Rick looked down. "I would love it if Carl was here full time. We already have Judith. You know I've been hinting to Mike to let me have full custody…. Not only do I not mind, I think it's about time. A boy Carl's age needs his father."

Rick stood up and kissed her. "I love you. I don't know how the hell I made it in this world without you." She kissed him back. "Since we already had this talk, tonight we can talk about that vacation."

She smiled. "You got yourself a deal, Sheriff."

"Enjoy your bath."

Rick patted her thigh and left his wife to enjoy her bath.

A/N: I am OBSESSED with this A/U. I think I might write more one-shots from this world =)


	45. When Doves Cry

A/N: HEY! I hope everyone enjoyed their 4th of July. I don't really celebrate it, but I wanted to be mindful of those who do, so I didn't post yesterday. I hope you all enjoyed yourselves!

* * *

 _Michonne loses something precious_.

 _Speculation for a moment right before AOW. Not really a spoiler because I SERIOUSLY doubt this'll actually happen. And be warned: it's angst._

 _Title is a play on words, and a reference to the legend that was Prince._

 **WHEN DOVES CRY**

 **Rated T+ for angst**

Michonne charged the Savior, slicing him with her katana. He didn't even have time to scream in pain before he was down and she was on to the next one. Her eyes scanned her surroundings: she saw Rick fighting, his gun going off; Carl was nearby, looking nearly identical to his father; Sasha was sniping Saviors left and right.

She saw one coming at Rick, in his blind spot, and headed in that direction. She took her gun and shot the man before he could get to Rick. Rick looked stunned for a second, until his eyes caught hers. He sent her his signature thank you nod and she returned it before continuing to fight.

Her side was winning. Either that or Negan didn't really want the Saviors to win. She knew what kind of man he was. Negan played mind games. He wanted to scare people into submission, but he wasn't above killing them either. She could see some of the Saviors starting to retreat.

She decided she'd kill as many of them as she could before they all left.

Michonne came across another one of Negan's wives. The two women locked eyes. The woman stopped in her tracks and smiled. She put her gun away and slowly took out her knife. Michonne did the same with her katana and pulled out a smaller knife.

The two women approached each other. She was brunette, dressed for battle, which was funny Negan's wives were normally dressed in lingerie. Michonne took her sword out and started walking towards the woman.

They didn't waste any time.

After a brief eye lock the women started circling each other. Neither of them seemed too privy to their surroundings: not the smoke, or the chaos, or the people running, fighting, and dying.

It was just them.

The woman struck Michonne first. She was quick, Michonne would give her that. Michonne struck her back with her fist. The woman lost her balance, clearly caught off guard, and then snarled at Michonne. The woman ran at her and Michonne sidestepped her, pushing her down and attempting to stab her in the back. She kicked Michonne from behind and Michonne stumbled back. The woman regained her balance and turned around, slicing Michonne in the stomach.

She gasped, her fingers touching her stomach. The cut was deep, she could feel it, and the blood oozing out of the wound was enough to let Michonne know that it was serious.

The woman smiled at her, her eyes dark, her smile cold. Michonne threw the knife at her, hard, and it hit the woman in the shoulder – Michonne's vision was off, she was aiming for her heart. The woman screamed and grabbed the knife, but before she could Michonne fell.

The pain was… like nothing she'd ever experienced, and that included being shot. Michonne could see the woman approaching her and Michonne started reaching for her gun. The other woman grabbed her own gun and already had it drawn.

Michonne felt another wave of dizziness hit her. She tried to keep her eyes open but it took a lot of effort. She blinked, and the next thing she knew, the woman had approached her, her gun pointed at Michonne's head.

Michonne heard a gunshot, and then the world went black.

…

"Come on Carl."

"Dad."

"We need to get her to Dr. Carson's."

"There's a lot of blood."

"Some of it is that woman's you shot."

…

"Get her on the bed."

"She's really bleeding."

"Rick, you should get Carl out of here."

"I'm not leaving her."

"Carl."

"Everyone can't stay in here. I need to operate."

"Rick, Carl, come with me to my office and let Dr. Carson work on her."

"I'm not leavin' Michonne."

…

A faint beeping had Michonne blinking her eyes open. She attempted to move but realized pretty quickly that she couldn't. She shifted and immediately saw Dr. Carson in her line of sight.

"Easy now," said Dr. Carson, laying a gentle hand on her. "Your body's been through a lot."

Michonne groaned softly and then she caught sight of Rick.

"I'm here," he said softly. She looked at him, taking in his expression: his eyes were bloodshot, and filled with worry, he had several cuts and bruises on his face, and his shirt was bloody. "I look worse than it is."

Michonne stared at him. "Carl?" rasped out Michonne.

"Fine. Everyone's fine. We didn't lose anyone. Couple of Hilltop injuries, and one from the Kingdom, but no one died."

Michonne sighed.

"That's not exactly true," Dr. Carson said. Rick and Michonne looked at him. "I was able to patch your stomach up, but…" Dr. Carson took a deep breath and stared at them. "Unfortunately I wasn't able to save the baby."

Michonne blinked. Rick stiffened.

"The baby?" asked Rick, clearly confused.

"The knife was sharp and your wound was deep. There was no way we could save the child. I'm so sorry."

Despite the pain Michonne sat up a little. " _What child_?"

Rick turned away from her, rubbing his hands over his face.

Dr. Carson stared between them. "Oh my God. You didn't know you were pregnant."

Michonne turned away from Dr. Carson as the tears stung her eyes. "Please… please tell this is some sick joke."

Dr. Carson took a deep breath. "I thought you knew. Please understand, I thought you knew."

"How long?" asked Michonne.

"I don't think that's important—"

" _How long_?"

"At least two months," Dr. Carson said softly. Michonne shook her head. "Rick, Michonne, I…."

"Jus' go," stated Rick. "Please, jus' give us a minute…." Dr. Carson nodded and left. Rick walked up to Michonne. "You're all right. At least you're okay. It coulda been worse. I coulda lost you both." He slid his hand into hers, squeezing. Michonne looked at him. "We could try again. We could—"

"We use protection, from this day forward." Rick clamped his mouth shut at Michonne's tone. "No excuses. As long as we're fighting, we have to. I will not risk another child, Rick. Not again." Rick stared at her for a long time, and then slowly nodded.

"We're gonna get through this," Rick promised. " _All_ of this." Rick kept repeating that as Michonne drifted off, the sound of his voice soothing.

She might have actually believed him if she hadn't dreamt about Andre.

* * *

A/N: Don't ask me why I wrote this. I just couldn't get it out of my head.


	46. Of Girlfriends and Love Potions

A/N: Yall. My heart is so heavy about this Alton Sterling murder. This man was somebody's husband. Somebody's father. I just don't understand why my people's life doesn't matter. This is why I don't celebrate Indepedence Day. I've got a few prompts/requests that I planned to write today and can't even do that. I'm not in the least bit inspired.

 _Needed something light and airy, so here's a continuation of 'Of Wrackspurts and Veela' (Chapter 33)._

 **OF NEW GIRLFRIENDS AND LOVE POTIONS**

 **Rated T**

Rick stood in front of the Hogwarts Express with the rest of Team Family: Daryl, his hair longer than ever; Morgan, taller than last year; Sasha; new to the group, but a part of them nonetheless; Glenn, more of an authority figure now; and Maggie, Glenn's girlfriend, her brunette hair cut shorter and currently in a ponytail.

They were all listening to Maggie's father, Hershel, explain about how even though things break, they can still grow. It was in that moment that Daryl nudged him. Rick looked up at Daryl who nodded forward, and Rick felt his stomach jolt. He let out a soft, relieved sigh at the sight of her.

 _She's back_.

Rick abandoned his post and jogged up to Michonne, a grin on his face. She sent him a smile when she saw him.

"We're glad to see you," Rick said, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling.

"Glad to see you too," responded Michonne.

"Look who's comin' in on the Hogwarts Express," Daryl joked.

"I _told_ you… my parents are Muggles and their job transferred from Zimbabwe to London. There was no way for me to make the Hogwarts Express after the holiday."

"Yah, yah, yah, we know the story," continued Daryl. Michonne was really the only student in history to ever transfer to Hogwarts in the middle of the school year. It turns out she'd been meeting with Dumbledore for months before she was finally able to transfer.

"Why do you look like you could have flown a Muggle motorcycle to Hogwarts?" Michonne asked.

Daryl grinned as she took in his leather attire, topped with a black vest with angel wings on the back. "I bought a Muggle bike this past summer. Definitely rode it to King's Cross Station."

"Doesn't surprise me in the least." Michonne shook her head and greeted everyone else. "Guess I'll go save our compartment since the rest of you probably will wait until the last minute to actually get on the train."

"You want help with that?" asked Rick, nodding towards her trunk.

"Nah. Do your thang," she told him, and then she disappeared on the train after briefly talking to Hershel.

Rick watched her until Daryl hit him lightly in the stomach. He snapped out of it and they all walked back to Hershel to say goodbye.

…

Rick made his way to the compartment, sliding the door open. His eyes immediately sought out Michonne's, and she gave him a soft smile that he easily returned. He sat in the seat across from her.

"What have I missed?" he asked.

"Maybe if you wasn't a Prefect you'd know," responded Daryl. Rick mock-glared at Daryl. "You're a disappointment, man. You went from playin' pranks to followin' the rule books. Ain't no fun around here no more."

"Oh please," Michonne said, coming to Rick's defense. "You two had to grow up at some point."

"Yah, at some point. Like when we get outta school."

"Maybe if you hadn't been foolin' around so much you'd have gotten more Outstandings…." Rick's eyes twinkled with mirth.

"You got one more'n me, so shut up," Daryl said. "When the hell did you get so smart anyway? I'll never understand how you scored an Outstandin' in Transfiguration."

"That was all Michonne," stated Sasha with a grin.

"It's true," Rick nodded, glancing at Michonne. "All those late nights paid off."

"I'm excited on what we'll learn this year," said Michonne. "I read our Potions textbook… it looks amazing."

"You're such an overachiever," Glenn stated. "Why in the hell would you actually open your textbook during Holiday?"

"It's our sixth year. The classes we take this year will shape what we do for the rest of our lives."

Daryl blinked at her. "Well when you put it like that…."

"Everything we learn this year is just prepping us for our NEWTs. I intend to do well on mine."

"What do you wanna do when you get outta here?" asked Rick as casually as he could.

"I'm not sure. I always said after I was of age and left Hogwarts I'd return home." Rick felt his stomach sink. "But that was before I met all of you." Rick perked up. "Hogwarts has changed me. Made me better. And I am quite fascinated with your Ministry. It doesn't seem as corrupt, at least not yet. I've been talking to McGonagall over the summer about the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She sent me a few brochures."

"Wait," interrupted Sasha. "You've been talking to Professor McGonagall? I'm all for getting a head start, but that's taking it kind of far."

Michonne shrugged. "I just want to make sure I'm well informed, is all. What about the rest of you?"

Daryl shrugged. "I don't know. I still think I'm better suited to be a Muggle. I'm takin' Muggle Studies this year."

"If you're going to be a Muggle you'll need to go to a four-year University," Michonne told him.

"Another four years? To hell with it, man. I'll be a hermit." Michonne laughed and Daryl grinned. "What about you, Rick? You still wanna do what you always wanted to?"

"Let me guess," stated Michonne. "An Auror?"

Rick blinked at her. "Is it that obvious?"

Michonne gave him a soft smile. "It suits you, is all. I see the way you lead, the way you take your Prefect duties so seriously. It makes sense."

Rick and Michonne stared at each other for several moments, seemingly unaware of anyone else around them, until the compartment door opened. They all turned to find Lori at the door.

"Hey," she said. The group remained silent for a few extra seconds before Daryl finally spoke. "I don't wanna take up much of your time. Just wondering how the end of your summer went." She seemed to be talking to everyone, but she was looking at Rick.

"It was fine," Glenn finally answered with a forced smile.

Lori nodded. "Everyone do okay on their OWLs?"

"Bout what you'd expect," Rick stated without looking at her.

Lori blinked at him and then nodded. "Yah. Me too. Well I'll see you guys around."

"Bye, Lori," Morgan said softly. Once she was gone Morgan turned to Rick. "I thought you two were gonna try to work it out."

"That _was_ us tryin'," said Rick.

"Well if that was you two tryin' I'd hate to see you two _not_ try." Rick remained silent. "Why don't you just call the whole thing off? It's not like you're married or nothin'."

Rick stood up, his jaw set. "I'm gonna make my rounds." And without a backwards glance to anyone, he was gone.

…

"Where's Rick?" Michonne asked at dinner.

Daryl shrugged. "Ain't seen him since we got off the train." Michonne scanned the Great Hall, Daryl doing the same. "I don't see Lori either," commented Daryl.

Michonne looked around, checking the Hufflepuff table, noting Daryl was right.

She started eating her food, keeping her thoughts on her lessons.

…

Rick climbed the last step to the Astronomy Tower and stood next to Lori. A gentle breeze blew, blowing Lori's hair. The two of them stood there in silence for a long time, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Maybe they were remembering some of the times they shared up here. This used to be _their_ spot.

They hadn't been up here in several months.

"Things are changin' out there," Lori said quietly.

Rick took a deep breath. "You mean with Voldemort?"

"They say he's the worst villain since Grindelwald." Lori chanced a glance at him. "He's taking over, and… I was worried when I didn't really hear from you this summer." Rick remained silent and Lori sighed. "Look, I know was a shitty girlfriend, but I need you to know that not for one second do I think there is malice in your heart. You're not a bad person, and I know that. I know that, so... I wish there was something I could do to undo what I did. If I could get my hands on a Time-Turner—"

Rick didn't say anything, and Lori had hoped he would. When it was clear he wouldn't, she sighed.

"I thought you were coming up here to talk about us." Rick remained silent, though he shifted a little. Tensed. "Maybe there's nothing left to talk about."

Rick shook his head. "There isn't, Lori." He _finally_ looked at her. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this with you. You cheated on me with my best friend. I would have done anything for you, anything for Shane."

"You didn't make it easy," Lori whispered fiercely. "You're not the easiest guy to understand. You didn't make time for me—"

"I had become a Prefect. I was workin' out how to balance everything. I would have gotten it together. We coulda figured it out. You didn't give us that chance, Lori."

"You never communicated, Rick. Even now, you won't talk to me."

"I don't have anything to say," snapped Rick. "You looked at me like I was a monster for beatin' Shane into a bloody pulp. You made _him_ the victim. _You_ hurt _me_ and never even said I'm sorry."

Rick turned away from her and looked out into the dark night. Lori let out a shaky breath.

Rick reached out to her, laying his hand on her shoulder. "I'm real grateful for everything you used to be. But we're different. We've grown apart. You have to let us go, because there's nothin' left to hold on to."

Without another glance at Lori, Rick left the Astronomy Tower, vowing never to return.

…

"Hey, Rick," said a somewhat familiar voice as he headed into class. Rick turned around, shifting his backpack so he could turn around.

"Hey," Rick responded. "It's Jessie, right?"

"Yah." The blonde Hufflepuff sent him a smile. "I guess you did Outstanding in Potions?"

"Actually I only got an Exceeds Expectations, but Professor Slughorn accepts that for NEWT students."

"Lucky for me," Jessie said flirtatiously. Rick blinked at her as she made her way further into the classroom.

"Hey." Rick turned and gave Michonne a smile.

"Hey yourself. You ready to do this?"

"Slughorn loves me," smiled Michonne. "I was born ready."

Rick nodded. "Must be nice to be a part of his little Slug Club."

"Jealousy doesn't look good on you," she told him. He chuckled as the made their way to stand along with the rest of the group. The crowd was smaller than usual figuring it was a higher level of Potions. Rick only counted about a dozen students, three Slytherins, two Hufflepuffs, three Ravenclaws, and four Gryffindors.

"Good morning," stated Professor Slughorn. "It's so good to see all of you continuing on to take Potions. I had a feeling some of you would." Professor Slughorn winked at Michonne. "Now as you can see, there's a particular potion brewing on the table. Anyone care to take a gander at what it is?"

"Amortentia," Michonne said immediately.

"Indeed it is," said Slughorn, clearly impressed. "Five points for Gryffindor. Can you tell me how you knew?"

"The way the smoke swirls. The mother-of-pearl sheen. It's scent. For example I smell spearmint and baking soda, milk chocolate, and… something I can't quite put my finger on…."

"Take another five. Amortentia is one of the most difficult potions to create. Now we won't be creating it today, but understand knowing how to create this potion will not be an option. If you want to pass this class, you'll have to have mastered it. Go on get closer. It's been said that no two users can smell the exact same thing. Its scent is unique to every individual."

Rick stepped forward, taking a look at the world's most powerful love potion. He didn't have to step too far before its scent hit him.

Two scents he recognized immediately: the wood of his wand and Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. The third thing… the third thing smelled familiar, like something tropical he might have smelled for the first time during a nighttime stroll.

Slughorn placed a lid on top of the cauldron and Rick immediately snapped out of it.

Rick blinked a few times and looked around, noting that everyone else looked just as dazed as he did. His eyes rested on Jessie and she gave him a shy smile that he returned.

"Welcome to Potions class, Sixth years. Prepare for everything to change."

That seemed like the understatement of the year.

* * *

A/N: I wanted to same mystery/confusion we felt between S3 and S4 to take place here. None of us knew how Rick and Michonne got so close, by 4x1 they were like BFFs LOL. I wanted to capture that between years 5 and 6. More later =]


	47. The Tell-Tale Heart

_This one-shot has been in my head for a while now. Title, from the the AMAZING poet that was Edgar Allen Poet, is just a play on words. This one-shot is really about some of the times that our lovely Michonne might have made Rick's heart pound._

 **THE TALE-TELL HEART**

 **Rated T+**

Rick knocked on Michonne's bedroom door but didn't wait for a reply. He just barged in, swept her room within seconds to realize she wasn't there, but still called out her name in a slight panic.

"Rick?"

Rick turned towards the bathroom. The door was cracked. He rushed to the door and opened it without thinking.

"Have you seen Judith?"

He backed up and took in the scene before him: Michonne, in the bathtub, her hair tired up, save for a few 'locks that had fallen, her legs drawn up so that her knees were visible, while the rest of her body was covered in thousands of bubbles.

Judith rested on Michonne's drawn knees, laughing and giggling.

"I… I couldn't find her," Rick said, trying extremely hard to keep his eyes on Judith.

"You fell asleep and you were gonna drown in Judith's drool, so I took her off your hands. You looked beat, so." Michonne gave a delicate shrug and he finally met her eye.

His heart was still pounding, though he wasn't sure why. Judith was clearly safe, she'd been with Michonne, so why was his heart threatening to pound out of his chest? He told himself to breathe, to calm down, that all was okay.

He should say something. He _had_ to say something. _Anything_. He couldn't just stand here and look at her, even though that's _exactly_ what he was doing.

"We're almost finished," stated Michonne, finally snapping him out of his speechlessness.

"Right. Thanks." He finally turned away and headed out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind it. For a quick second he leaned against it, taking a deep breath, trying to get himself together.

By the time he'd recovered he'd convinced himself he had only been weak in the knees because of Judith.

…

When Rick woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't go back to sleep he finally got up and made his way down the hall. The room next to his was Michonne's, and her door was open, her bed empty. It wasn't her day for an overnight shift, so he frowned. Her sword was at her nightstand, but her gun was gone.

He moved across the hall to check in on Carl. He was sleeping on his back, a gun on his table, and Rick knew there was another one underneath his pillow. His eye bandage gleamed in the darkness.

Rick closed Carl's door and made his way to Judith's room. She was the last room in the house, because anybody who wanted to hurt her would have to go through three other people first. Four if you included Daryl downstairs. That had been by design.

Eventually Rick made his way downstairs. He saw the kitchen light on and made his way there.

He stopped in his tracks when he noticed her at the island in nothing more than a bathrobe, tied tightly around the waist, hugging every curve imaginable. Her hair was loose, swinging down her back, and she looked… _different_. In a good way. Normally she was always on alert, her guard up. Not that her defenses were down now. She was just relaxed, her face soft.

She looked like a _woman_ , he realized, and for once, not a warrior.

She was beautiful.

It wasn't the first time he'd noticed it. He'd be blind not to. He was very well aware of the fact that she was a woman, and the first time he caught a glimpse of it was when she'd showed up to that party in that black dress. He'd just been so focused on Jessie he didn't really think of Michonne.

Now he couldn't help it.

Seeing her like this reminded him that he was a _man_.

And she was definitely a woman.

Without saying anything he quietly made his way back upstairs.

Not that it'd mattered. She probably heard his heart beating for the rest of the night.

…

As the days started to pass Rick started to notice a pattern: his heart tended to beat _a lot_ around Michonne.

He didn't know what it meant, but subconsciously he kept giving himself excuses as to why his heart would pound whenever he was around Michonne.

It was starting to get so bad that she didn't even have to be around anymore. If his thoughts swirled around in his head and he started thinking about her, his heart would nearly beat out of his chest.

He didn't get it. He didn't understand it.

Not even when he finally took off his wedding ring did he see the correlation between the two things.

No, it wasn't until he handed her a pack of Lifesaver mints – spearmint, no less – and his hand brushed hers that he _got_ it. Everything, _everything_ made sense then: his desperation to chase down that truck, the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched that truck with a crate of toothpaste sink to the bottom of a lake. His disappointment at coming home somewhat empty handed.

Even grabbing the mints from the vending machine just in case they didn't get the truck back… it all made sense.

His heart had been talking to him, after all this time.

Now… now their hearts beat in sync with each other. _Everything_ was in sync with each other, the way they moved, the way they moaned, the way they breathed, the way they pleased each other, the way they came together, in unison, at the same time, utterly spent and breathless.

And now… now their hearts were beating as one, as she laid on top of him, their bodies slick with sweat. Their heartbeats actually matched each other's. Same beat, same pace, same rhythm.

How telling.


	48. The Talk

A/N: Okay yall. Let's get back to #PositiveVibesOnly. A lot of you have reached out to me and your support has meant a lot. Thanks to all of you who understood where I was coming from and told me that it was okay to take some time for myself. To those of you I offended, I apologize once again. Hopefully we can all move on and help each other out. I've decided that when a Guest leaves a review, I will respond via A/N on whether I can/will do it or not since I can't directly respond. That way the guests will know I got their prompt. I think that'll help everyone out. Thanks again to all of you who understood.

Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.

* * *

 _Carl and Michonne having a serious conversation. Set sometime during the two-year time jump._

 **THE TALK**

 **Rated K**

Carl climbed up the guard post latter, the sun beaming high on his face. Michonne looked up and grinned softly at Carl.

"Hey," Carl said.

"Hey yourself," said Michonne. Carl approached her, standing next to her and facing out towards the forest. Michonne stared at him but he didn't seem to really desire to rush into a discussion.

He was here for something, she just didn't know what.

"Everything okay?" Michonne finally asked.

Carl sighed heavily and glanced at Michonne. "Judith will be talking soon," Carl told her.

Michonne stared at Carl quizzically. "Okay…?"

"Do you ever think about… what she might call you?"

Michonne stiffened and quickly looked away, suddenly unable to stare at Carl anymore. She felt her throat constrict and she found it hard to swallow.

"You have to think about it," pushed Carl softly. "Especially with you and my dad together…."

Michonne kept her eyes ahead, taking a deep breath. "I'm not Lori, and I don't want anyone to think—"

"I don't care what anyone else thinks," Carl interrupted. "You _are_ our mother. And under no circumstance am I trying to be insensitive to Andre, but—"

"You _want_ to call me Mom?"

Carl blinked at her. "What do you think I've been trying to say all this time?" Michonne closed her eyes. "Judith is a baby. You're all she's ever known. You're all she'll ever know. I mean eventually she'll understand that that you're not her mother biologically. But in every sense of the word, you've earned that title. From _both_ of us." Carl turned and faced Michonne. "I can keep my mother's memory alive. Judith looks just like her. But there's no need for me to call you Michonne, or for Judith to call you that. Not when you spend every moment of your life protecting us, and my dad. And we do the same for you."

"I thought you didn't want—"

"I want to." His voice was firm, and held a tone of someone who didn't want to argue. "And I think Judith should too. But it's up to you. I just wanted you to know my stand. I know you miss Andre, you miss Andre every day, just like I miss my mother, but… I'm okay with you thinking of me as your son."

"You _are_ my son," Michonne told him. They stared at each other. "Have you told your dad?"

"Yah," nodded Carl. "I told him I was thinking about it. He agreed. It wouldn't have mattered, though. I know how I feel about you, the same way he knows how he feels about you."

Michonne looked away, touched. "What brought all this on?"

Carl shrugged. "I had a conversation with Enid, and it just got me to thinking. But I've been thinking about it for a while. Long before our talk on the porch the night you and my dad hooked up."

"Carl," sighed Michonne, and he laughed. He was pretty sure she'd never forgiven herself or Jesus for making him find out about her and his dad like that.

"I'm glad we had this talk," Carl said softly.

Michonne glanced at him and smiled, wrapping her arms around him. "Me too."


	49. Waiting Up

A/N: Yall know I normally don't post on the weekends but I HAD TO! DANAI HAS BEEN CAST IN BLACK PANTHER. Yall. I feel like **I'VE** been cast in Black Panther. Marvel is already by favorite (way more so than DC Comics), Iron Man was Bae (AND THEY HAVE A DARK-SKINNED IRON [WO]MAN COMING OUT!) but now that BP is coming out I've been ecsatic. But to find out our beloved Queen DG has been cast… I mean… I just can't. I'm beyond excited. Life is effing good. So I thought I'd post something cus I haven't been this excited about something in WEEKS! Hope yall enjoy.

* * *

 _Was on the Tell it to the Dead site and I posted this, and it ended up becoming a thought that turned into a one-shot hahahaha. So this one comes from me: "Anybody else picture Michonne looking at the clock [in 6x10] like "Where IS he? How long does it take to get TOOTHPASTE? Can he do ANYTHING without me?" *front door opens, she pretends she calm, but then kinda snaps when she tells him to move*_

 _And then it's "I don't see nothing wrongggggggggggggg wit a lil bump n grind" LMBO_

 _Takes place during "The Next World."_

 **WAITING UP**

 **Rated T**

Michonne said goodnight to Carl, kissing him softly on the forehead. Carl reached for Judith, kissed her, and handed her back to Michonne. He sent Michonne a soft smile and Michonne started to walk away but Carl grabbed her hand.

"I meant what I said tonight," Carl told her. "It wasn't the heat of the moment, or something to get me out of trouble. I _would_ do it for you."

Michonne smiled softly at Carl. "I know."

"Good." Michonne headed towards the door. "And don't worry about my dad. He'll be home soon."

Michonne turned around, leaning against the doorframe. "Is it that obvious I'm worried?"

"A little," smiled Carl. "He's fine. We'd know if he wasn't." Michonne nodded and bid Carl goodnight for the final time. She walked down the hall to Judith's room.

"Now you're up way passed your bedtime, Little Bit." Judith grinned, as if that had been the plan all along. "We tried to wait up for Daddy, but he's not back yet, so we'll see him tomorrow, okay?" Judith clapped and Michonne placed her in her crib, turning on the bay monitor. "Sweet Dreams, Angel." Michonne bent down and kissed her and then headed to her own room, sighing.

Despite Carl's assurance that Rick was fine, Michonne was slightly worried. Daryl and him hadn't been out of the walls for a while now. Not that she was worried about them per say. They could handle themselves. It was just it was really getting late, and she was used to them being in the house when she went to sleep.

She just couldn't understand where they were. She found herself pacing her bedroom. How difficult was it to get some toothpaste? How far did they have to go to try and find food? She should have gone with them.

But if she had… she wouldn't have had her moment with Spencer today.

She didn't know why that moment kept sticking out to her. So they had found Deanna, and she was forced to think about that moment many weeks ago when Deanna had asked her what it is she wanted.

It was something she had told herself she didn't have time to think about, only now she _did_ have time. The walls were rebuilt, they were looking at expanding, things had settled down.

They had finally been able to make this place _home_.

And home consisted of Daryl and Rick coming back from a run that had started _hours_ ago.

Seriously, what _was_ taking them so long? Had they driven back to Atlanta to try and find food? Their food situation wasn't so dire that Daryl and Rick didn't have to return if they didn't find anything. No one from Alexandria would be disappointed in them. They wouldn't have to come home and face the music.

They just needed to come home.

Michonne caught a glimpse of Judith moving around in her crib and walked up to the baby monitor, grabbing it from her nightstand and staring at it. Michonne smiled softly as she realized Judith was trying to turn over.

She was growing up. She'd be crawling soon, and eventually walking.

She was just a good baby. Beautiful, too.

At that moment Michonne heard the front door open. She stood up and headed towards the living room, her heart hammering.

 _He was home_.

She found Rick lying on the couch, one hand over his face, the other hanging off the couch. He looked exhausted, she noted, but it didn't do much to calm her irritation, even though she was trying to check it.

He was home now, so the rest didn't matter.

Still, she couldn't stop herself from nudging him – not so nicely – and telling him to "Move." Just that tap alone made her feel better, and her frustration evaporated. He seemed surprised for a moment, until he glanced up at her, and sat up and she sat down next to him. "Look," she said, showing him the baby monitor as Judith flipped over. "She's practicing in her sleep."

Rick stared at the monitor for a few moments, smiling softly. "It's good to be home," stated Rick as he took of his shoes. Michonne reached over and placed the baby monitor on the side table.

"Yah, you're tellin' me," Michonne said gently. They both got a little more comfortable. "Where's Daryl?"

"Watchin' over a guy, 'til some other guy can take over."

Michonne blinked at him. "You found a guy?"

Rich sighed and shook his head. "Crazy day."

Concern flooded Michonne's brain as she stared at him. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Nah, not right now," Rick admitted. "I jus' wanna turn my brain off for a minute." Michonne shifted in her seat. "Wanna tell me about your day?"

She shook her head, realizing she wouldn't even know where to begin to explain the day she had. "No. Same thing." She could feel Rick staring at her.

"What, you found a guy?"

"Not a guy."

Rick continued to stare at her for a few more moments, trying to gage her. She understood; he probably suddenly had a million questions he wanted to ask, but he pushed them all away. Michonne shifted again.

"Oh. Got you somethin'," he told her, and started digging in his back pocket. Michonne stared at him, confused, until he placed something in front of her face with a smile on his lips.

She stared at the pack of spearmint Lifesavers and laughed, snatching it playfully from his hand. "Is this instead of the toothpaste?" giggled Michonne.

"Mhmm. Oh and I do have a crate of toothpaste for you, by the way. It's just currently at the bottom of the lake."

"Oh so you had a _day_ ," Michonne concluded.

"Yeah. All on account of your dental hygiene." Michonne smiled and continued to look at the mints, slightly touched that he'd thought enough of her to bring her back _something_. She couldn't wipe the smile from her face, even as she placed her hand on the couch. "Have your mints," finished Rick, and he patted her hand.

The shift was instant. Something… otherworldly seemed to come over her in that instant. Michonne felt Rick manipulate his fingers so that they could hold hands, and Michonne felt her heart start to pound.

Michonne stared at their hands for a few seconds, and then slowly looked up to find Rick already looking at her.

So this is what Deanna had meant. She had seen it. Of course she had seen it. It made sense. _They_ made sense. This was why she had been worried when he hadn't come home at a decent hour. It's why she waited up for him every single night. It's why they sat _on this very couch_ every night and discussed their day with each other.

They went from waiting _on_ each other to waiting _up_ for each other.

So when their lips finally connected, she couldn't help but smile.


	50. Of Talking, Teasing, and Promises

A/N: **YALL! OMG! Soooo I won tickets to see my future husband LENNY KRAVITZ in concert for the DNC. I was actually already scheduled to be in Philly for that day anyway and then to win the sweepstakes to see LK… I am over the MOON excited! Yall just don't understand. I've been to one of his concerts before and it is LIFE CHANGING. He's SO anointed. I am OBSESSED haha. Beyond excited! Let love rule.**

 **ALSO! I'm on Chapter FIFTY! Yall! I can't believe it! Thank you all SO much for the support/prompts/requests/reviews. I got plenty more inside me (finally). All of you are amazing and beyond loved/appreciated.**

* * *

 _Prompt—"From Knots Untie, after Rick killed Ethan and he's all bloody, he obviously went back to the house to clean up. Would love a conversation in the bathroom where Michonne went to help him and they have a talk about that and her knocking that chick down for punching Rick." –Box5Angel_

 _I don't know HOW, HOW, HOW I didn't think of this. It was genius. It was perfect. It was wonderful._

 _S/N and POSSIBLE SPOILERS IF YOU DON'T READ THE COMICS/HAVE NO SUSPICIONS OF WHO DIED IN THE SEASON FINALE. READ THIS PORTION AT YOUR OWN RISK OR JUST SKIP DOWN TO THE ONE-SHOT IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED: So I'm into spoilers, I just am, and I read the comics, too. So it's safe to say I think/believe Glenn was Lucille'd. OF COURSE WE HAVE NO PROOF because of that God-AWFUL season finale BUT I'm re-watching "Knots Untie" and there's the part where the girl (whose name is Crystal btw) is seen weeping over Ethan's body. Guess who but Maggie is watching from the window! SOMEONE re-watch the scene (right after Rick kills Ethan) and tell me if that's foreshadowing or not. Crystal is seen weeping over Ethan's body and I'm just like "HOLY SHIT" LOL. I'd love to hear your thoughts._

 **OF TALKING, TEASING, AND PROMISES**

 **Rated T**

Rick watched as Jesus, Dr. Carson, and Maggie attempted to help Gregory. He ignored the stares he was getting from the people of Hilltop. They didn't know, but they would learn. They didn't have a choice. They _wouldn't_ have a choice.

He watched as Daryl helped Abraham up, nodding at them, and then his eyes sought out Michonne. She too was on guard, her hand resting on her sword, her eyes sweeping the grounds. Glenn was watching Jesus talk to Maggie, and then Maggie headed back towards them.

"Jesus says we should wait back in Gregory's office," she stated, and Rick nodded. She turned to him. "He also mentioned that you should get cleaned up again."

"All right," nodded Rick, his eyes finding Michonne's again. He nodded at her and she took one final look around, her eyes resting on the girl she had knocked down earlier. The group made their way back inside, most of them taking an immediate left. Rick continued up the stairs to the same restroom he'd used earlier, and he could feel Michonne behind him. Without meaning to, he grinned.

Michonne followed him upstairs and to the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe. She watched in silence as he grabbed a random towel and stared wiping the blood off his face.

"You good?" she asked softly.

He glanced at her. "Are you?" She gave him a single nod. "Then I think you know my answer." He continued wiping his face and Michonne sighed.

"Men are men, everywhere." She grabbed the towel from him.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you need to wet the towel." She turned on the faucet and waited for the water to warm before soaking the towel. Squeezing out the excess water she turned around and gently started removing the blood from his face. "Do we ever get to go anywhere and you _not_ get human blood on you?"

"Hey, he attacked _me_. We do what we have to do now, no questions asked." His tone was gentle but the magnitude of his words were firm.

"I know." She continued to wipe his face. "I don't know if I like it, though."

"Well I seem to recall _you_ gettin' physical with a certain female who attacked me." His eyes twinkled with tease but she looked away. "She shocked the hell outta me. I didn't know she had it in her. She caught me surprise. It didn't even hurt. I know you know that. You nearly broke her back. One minute she was standing, the next she was sailing to the ground."

"Well now she knows better. She shouldn't have touched you." Her voice was cold on that matter. "No one gets to touch you except me."

"I'll make sure I'll let Carol, Sasha, and Maggie know not to hug me ever again then."

She pressed the towel into his face a little harder than necessary, causing him to gasp, and then he chuckled.

"They all know," sighed Michonne. "Abraham, Daryl, and Glenn figured it out within seconds." She pictured it again in her head, the three of them running upstairs after Jesus just to find Rick with his shirt off and buckling is pants while Michonne was still pulling down her shirt. "I'm sure Glenn told Maggie. Abraham will tell Rosita and Eugene. And we all know Eugene can't hold water." She turned back to the sink and rinsed off the towel.

"Is them knowin' such a bad thing?"

"Of course not." She looked up at him in the mirror so that their eyes locked. "I wouldn't have minded them finding out differently though. _Any_ other way would have been okay. And don't get me started on Jesus."

Rick shook his head. "I almost killed him, no questions asked."

"It's a good thing you didn't." She turned off the water and faced him. "We need this trade." She wiped the remaining blood off of his face. She stared him over and then gently started on the blood in his hair. "Turn around." Rick obliged to the soft demand and Michonne wiped the blood from the back of his neck and his ears. "There. You're clean."

"Presentable enough to talk to Gregory?"

"Yes. Just don't kill him."

Rick smirked. "I make no promises."

Placing the towel down on the sink, Michonne and Rick made their way downstairs and to Gregory's office.


	51. Eventful Watch

**A/N: To everyone who's been requesting it, there WILL be a sequel to "Stop pretending" (Chapter 29) I just haven't posted it yet because there are several prompts in front of it. Can't wait for you all to read it! For now, enjoy this. I felt like smut, so it's smutty lol.**

* * *

 _What happens when Rick's on watch and Michonne can't sleep? SLIGHT spoilers figuring this takes place before All Out War._

 **AN EVENTFUL WATCH**

 **Rated M for smut**

Michonne climbed her way up the guard post, the morning still pitch-black. Sunrise wouldn't be for another hour or so. The morning was quiet and cool, everybody else in Alexandria still asleep, and rightfully so.

It was still much too early.

"What're you doin' up?" asked Rick softly, a small smile on his face. He had his gun over his shoulder, a pair of binoculars in his hands. He placed them down on the rail as she settled in next to him.

"It's official," she stated, sighing softly. "I can no longer sleep well without you next to me."

"Well then, mission accomplished." He stood behind her, wraping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. It touched him, just a little, to know that she couldn't sleep without him. He'd only been on guard duty about an hour.

"It's getting cold," commented Michonne, and Rick tightened his hold on her, his lips finding her neck. "Oh no," Michonne said, shaking her head and slipping out of his grip. "Absolutely not." Anytime he kissed her neck, he wanted her.

"Why not?"

"You're on guard duty."

Rick shrugged, his blue eyes twinkling in the dark. "So. Do you know how many times Maggie and Glenn used to do it on guard duty back at the prison?"

She watched as it hit him: that he'd mentioned Glenn and Maggie in the same sentence, and so casually. She saw him flex his jaw muscles and then turn away from her.

"Come here," she said, pulling him back to her. Their lips found each other and then Rick deepened the kiss, and it was obvious that he would get his way when he slipped his hands underneath her shirt.

They didn't waste a lot of time, and using the cover of the dark morning, Michonne slid out of her pants and Rick unbuckled his own, and then he turned her and was slipping inside of her. She let out a sharp gasp, gripping the rail and bending over it. He gripped her hips tightly, his thrusts harsh. She moaned as the pleasure became overwhelming, and then she cried out as she clenched around him.

"The point is to _not_ tell all of Alexandria what we're up to," grunted Rick.

Michonne turned around, and he knew he was in trouble. It was in the gleam in her eye. She pushed him away and lowered herself, wrapping her mouth around him until he saw stars. He gripped her head, nearly dizzy with lust, and finally pushed her away before he was about to explode.

He picked her up and placed her on top of the rail, wanting to see her. He kept his arms wrapped around her waist to make sure she didn't fall and kept her balance, and then he was inside of her again. The friction was hard, their thrusts demanding, and it didn't take long. It _never_ took long. They came undone, both of them making enough noise to alert anyone several miles away. She wouldn't be surprised if the Kingdom residents heard them.

"Well that was a first," Michonne panted, sliding her pants back up.

"What, sex on watch?" He finished buckling his pants.

"Sex outside."

Rick chuckled. "Me either."

"We can't do that again," said Michonne quietly. "As eventful as the night was, we can't. At least not during this time. Maybe after we've gone to war, and Negan is dead, and we go back to normal." Rick stared at her and then nodded. "But I do think I can sleep now."

"Lucky you," Rick responded sarcastically. Michonne laughed and kissed him softly on the lips.

"I'll see you later."

And with that, she was gone.


	52. Stranded

_Random one-shot of what might have happened if Rick and Michonne had gone out for a random run ;) Wanted to write something that wasn't canon because, let's face it, Richonne should have happened sooner._

 **STRANDED**

 **Rated M for smut**

Michonne kicked the walker so that it fell off of her sword, and then turned and sliced the other walker in half. Before it even hit the ground she was onto the next one, this time forcing her blade into its skull. With surprising speed, she turned to the next one, and then the next one, until all of them blurred together.

She took out the last one, spun around, and searched for Rick. He was holding his own – he always was – but he still had a few more to tackle, so Michonne rushed over to him and took out the remaining three while he handled his last two.

Breathing hard he turned to her. "You okay?"

"Yah," she breathed.

"There's no way we're gonna be able to get in there. That place is overrun with them."

"But we need gas."

Rick shook his head. "We're gonna have to get back to camp on foot." Rick turned from the store and started to head back to the car.

Michonne sighed. "It's gonna get dark soon. If we're not back before nightfall, the group's gonna worry."

"We don't really have a choice. The quicker we start, the better."

Michonne nodded and glanced up. "It looks like a storm's coming." The sky was dark, the clouds charcoal and black. They'd heard a few rolls of thunder but so far no rain had touched them yet.

"It'll be a welcome relief to the heat." Rick started going through the car and gathering their things, Michonne walking around and doing the same. When he was finished Rick looked at her. "You ready?"

"Yah."

"Let's go."

They started walking in silence for several moments, Rick lost in his own thoughts. This entire trip had been a waste. They were out on the road, trying to get more food because it was running scarce, and they'd decided to try this store. They'd had a feeling it'd been ransacked already, that it'd probably be empty, but it was worse: it was entirely filled with walkers and there was no way to get inside. Even as good as the two of them were, he and Michonne couldn't take them all on their own.

"We could try again tomorrow," said Michonne, seemingly reading his mind. "Bring some of the others."

He shook his head without looking at her. "There's no point without a car."

Before she could respond a few drips started falling. Michonne looked up and started at a loud clap of thunder, and then the heavens seemed to open up.

They were soaked in seconds.

"I don't know if I'm pissed off or relieved," Rick muttered.

Michonne smirked at Rick. "I'm grateful. It feels good."

He looked at her, smiling softly, and then she was looking away.

He couldn't exactly do that. He'd just realized Michonne's shirt was white and sticking to her skin. He looked away but his eyes were drawn back to her.

He'd be a blind fool to not recognize her beauty. She was stunning in every way imaginable, and watching her slay walkers was like watching something almost poetic and otherworldly. It was almost angelic.

He knew he shouldn't be looking at her like this. She was his best friend, yet that seemed too tame a word or phrase. She was… everything. His savior, his co-pilot, Carl and Judith's second mother.

He'd be nothing without her.

He'd be _dead_ without her, that was for sure.

There was just something about her, though, like she was this itch he couldn't scratch no matter how hard he tried. Yet he respected her, respected her enough to ignore the thoughts that had been creeping in lately.

He just couldn't _help_ it sometimes.

He was still staring at her when he noticed she was limping.

He inhaled sharply. "Michonne." She looked at him. "You're hurt."

Michonne looked away. "I'm fine."

He gently grabbed her arm to stop her from walking. "I asked you if you were okay earlier."

"I _am_ okay." He looked at her and dropped his bag and knelt down, wiping water from his eyes, and grabbed her leg and lifted her pants. He didn't see a cut or anything, so he looked up at her. "It's just a sprained ankle, Rick." He stood up and stared at her. "We need to get back to Carl and Judith. I don't want anyone to worry."

Rick shook his head. "You can't walk ten miles on a sprained ankle."

"I walked farther with a shot up leg."

"And you passed out as soon as you got to the prison." Michonne was about to respond but Rick cut her off. "You didn't ask for my help then and you won't ask for it now, but I'm gonna offer it anyway. We'll find shelter and I'll get your ankle wrapped up."

"Rick—"

He just sent her a look and it actually had her swallowing her retort.

"There was as trail that we passed not too long. It has to lead somewhere. Let's go."

"This is ridiculous."

"Be happy I'm not carryin' you."

She eyed him. "I don't see how resting is gonna help. My ankle will still be swollen tomorrow."

"We'll elevate it. I know how to take care of a sprained ankle." They walked in silence, the rain quiet noise in the background.

…

Sure enough the trail lead to a small and quiet neighborhood. There were about half a dozen houses, in the shape of a semi-circle. They eyed the neighborhood together. It was obvious it had seen better days, but it seemed deserted. Rick motioned for Michonne to follow him, and they headed towards the house in the center.

Michonne took out her sword and Rick grabbed his knife. He pounded on the door and waited, but it didn't sound like anything waited for them on the other end. He opened the door was greeted with stale air.

They put their stuff down and Rick fumbled around until he got to the couch and pushed it against the wall.

"Sit," he ordered.

"You wanna try that again?" asked Michonne.

Rick glanced at her, briefly. "Please." She stared at him for a little while longer for good measure, and then sat down. "I'll check the place out and be right back."

He wasn't gone for long. The house wasn't that big, maybe two bedrooms and an office upstairs.

"There's a loft upstairs with a bed. You can sleep there while I take watch."

"You plan on stayin' up all night?"

"I plan on doing what I have to in order to keep us safe. I'll help you upstairs and find something to wrap around your ankle."

"I can get myself upstairs, Rick," sighed Michonne.

He gritted his teeth but let her be. He heard her as she made his way upstairs and he searched around for something to light. Eventually he found a scented candle and and a pack of matches. He lit the candle and started looking around for something to wrap Michonne's ankle with.

Since the house wasn't that big, it didn't take long to see there was nothing.

Cursing softly Rick grabbed a few of the couch pillows and made his way upstairs.

"Didn't find anything to wrap your ankle with," he said once he was in the loft. He found Michonne upstairs looking out the window, her katana by her side. He sat the candle down on the small table next to the bed and placed the couch pillows on the bed on top of the sheet.

"Use my shirt," responded Michonne. "I can't stay in this, and you should change too."

And without so much as another word, Michonne lifted her shirt over head.

Rick froze as he caught a glimpse of Michonne's bra: it was black, and lace, and hardly covered anything, so he immediately averted his eyes, though he definitely wanted to look again.

Jesus did he want to look again.

He faintly heard noise in the background – Michonne was doing something – and then he felt something hit him in the face. He blinked and looked down, realizing she'd thrown a clean shirt at him. He looked up. She had already put another shirt over her.

He couldn't decide if he was disappointed or relieved.

He peeled off his own shirt. Unlike her he had the decency to turn around.

He stopped once he felt her fingers on him. It was like he'd been electrocuted. Something exploded inside of him, but he was too stunned to move. Her fingers brushed his back.

"Is this where you were shot?" Michonne's voice was soft.

Rick slowly turned and looked at her. She was close. Much too close for comfort. Being close to her had never bothered him before, he _liked_ being close to her, but this was _too_ close.

"Who told you about that?" asked Rick, trying to take control of his emotions. He blamed the rain for making her shirt stick to her skin earlier, and he blamed _her_ for taking off her shirt in front of him and then touching him.

" _Don't you ever touch me again_." Those are the words she'd spoken to him a few months ago, but he supposed _she_ could touch _him_ all she wanted.

He didn't think he'd mind that too much.

"Carl," Michonne told him.

"You guys talk about me often?"

"Enough," responded Michonne vaguely.

Rick finally put his new shirt on, tossing his wet one of the floor. "You're good for him."

Michonne stared at him as she sat down, placing her sword against the wall. "So are you."

He looked down, and then looked back up at her. "How do you always know what I need to hear?"

Michonne gave him a small smile. "I guess you could say I understand you."

He wondered if she could understand that he _wanted_ her. He wasn't sure how long he'd wanted her, but boy did he want her.

He needed to get a grip.

"Lay down and let me wrap your ankle." She did as she was told, lying back. He grabbed her ankle and placed it on his lap – _easy boy_ , he thought – and grabbed her wet shirt from the middle of the bed. Ripping it he tenderly wrapped her ankle. She hissed at one point and he froze. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Guess it hurts a little more than I thought."

Rick, being even more gentle, finished wrapping it. "Try not to move too much."

She nodded. "Thank you."

He gave her a single nod, her foot still in his lap. He supposed he should place her ankle on the couch pillows, but for some reason he kept her leg on his, gently caressing her foot with his thumb. She stared at him, her eyes soft, and he stared back, almost memorized.

He wanted to make a move.

It felt right. It felt like he should.

At that moment a loud burst of thunder startled them, and broke the moment.

Rick regretfully placed her foot on the cushions and stood up, putting a few feet of space between them. "You hungry? I can heat somethin' up." He needed to talk so that she wouldn't hear the pounding of his heart. He needed to fill the silence because his thoughts were wandering.

"No." Michonne shook her head. "We should save it, if we can."

Rick nodded and made his way towards the window. "Shit. We can't see anything. The rain's really poundin'."

"I think we're okay here for the night, Rick. The town's deserted, and so were the woods. We didn't even really come across any walkers. You should get some rest."

"I'm not tired." He was horny was what he was, and he hadn't felt _that_ in such a long time he didn't know what to do with all this pent up energy. He sighed. "I'll look around and see if this place has any more blankets."

With lightening speed Michonne reached out for his hand. "The sheet's fine, Rick. Come to bed." There was something so… _domestic_ about the way she said that last line that had him aching.

There was a tingle in his wrist from where she'd grabbed him.

He looked from his wrist to her eyes, watching her orbs flicker against the candlelight. A soft shadow danced across her face, highlighting the intensity of her gaze.

She didn't let his wrist go, but slid her fingers down to his hand, and without thinking he enclosed their hands. That seemed to be all the invitation she needed – she pulled him forward with surprising strength.

His lips were on hers before he could stop himself, and that seemed encouragement enough for Michonne. Her arms pulled him to her and his last conscious thought was that he was going to end up breaking her ankle.

Her nimble fingers fumbled with his belt and he snuck his hands under her shirt, gripping her breasts and eliciting a soft moan from her that was the most _erotic sound_ he'd ever heard.

It nearly drove him over the edge.

His holster fell to the floor with a thud and then Michonne was attempting to unbutton his jeans. Perhaps growing impatient she instead slid her hand down the front of his pants, causing him to hiss and his body to jerk.

He wasn't going to last like this.

He finally removed his hands from underneath her shirt and unbuckled his pants, _finally_ freeing himself. Michonne took off one pants leg – the opposite of the one with the sprained ankle – and immediately wrapped her leg around his waist.

She was just as eager as he was.

He should ask her if he was sure. He _should_. It was the right thing to do.

"I want to," she said huskily in his ear, and he stared at her. "I want to," she assured him, and then she leaned in and kissed him.

He _definitely_ wasn't going to last.

He took off her shirt, flinging it off to the side, and then watched in fascination as Michonne unhooked her bra with one hand. His head fell to her chest, already sucking and licking.

Suddenly she gripped his hair, pulling his face up, and then her lips were covering his, hot, hot, hot, sizzling, and he was dizzy with desire. Panting he gently pushed her away and positioned himself.

He thought he might be dead.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck as he entered her, and every single touch was hypersensitive: the way her nails dug into his back as he buried himself into her, the way her breath hitched as she adjusted to him, the way her body tensed and then relaxed, the way her calf flexed against him, the way her leg tightened around his waist.

He clutched the sheets, squeezing his eyes shut, holding his breath, and then his hips started moving on their own accord, desperate for more friction.

Her calling his name brought him back.

Her breath was quick, her moans loud, and then she was meeting his thrusts with fierce ones of her own. He made a strange noise – something between a moan, a groan, and a growl, and somehow choked out her name. She responded with a strangled sob, and a soft cry of his name.

He never knew his name could sound like that.

Their rhythm was frantic, matching the storm raging outside, their bodies slick with sweat, their flesh slapping. He watched as she bit her lip, her back arching, and he realized he could die happy, content, just like this.

"Michonne," he grunted out, his hips speeding up.

She called his name in return, loudly, and then her body jerked and she started bucking, a string of yesses falling from her lips. Losing control, he followed suit, his body reacting in ways it never had and his mouth muttering incoherent words that when strung together made no sense. He let loose, realizing he'd never experienced anything as amazing as that before, with anyone, ever.

Breathless he collapsed on top of her. "Holy shit," said Rick, breathing hard.

"I have no idea how good that was for my ankle, but my body is certainly satisfied."

With the little strength he had left Rick looked up, a smirk on his face. She stared at him, her own eyes dancing with amusement. He bent down and kissed her, softly, and she responded.

He rolled off of her but kept her close.

"Remind me to go on a run and get stranded with you again," Rick stated.

Michonne laughed. She was definitely down for that.


	53. Of Trust, Conversation, and Good People

_Prompt – "6X11, Knots Untie it's with Jesus and Michonne, with a little commentary from Rick if you want. You know when they are about to leave for Hilltop, and Rick, Carl, and Judith are outside and they see Jesus and Michonne come down the steps from the house and Rick talks to Carl about last night. What I want to know is what were Jesus and Michonne talking about or doing in the house before coming down the steps? I have a feeling they were the last two to leave the house. Was Jesus using the bathroom and Michonne agreed to wait to escort him out as a bodyguard of sorts? Did they have a conversation, and if so, what did they talk about? Hilltop, Alexandria, her and Rick, Carl, something else or nothing at all. Okay, I'll leave it at that since you're the writer. :-) Thank you! –Box5Angel_

 _OBSESSED, OBSESSED, OBSESSED, on SO many levels of this prompt. THIS is the point of writing prompts, to speculate and assume about all those missing scenes. I'm so excited to write this_.

 **OF TRUST, CONVERSATION, AND GOOD PEOPLE**

 **Rated T**

Jesus leaned back with a small smile. "Your world's about to get a whole lot bigger," he stated. He looked at them, taking in the way Rick looked from him to Michonne, and then glanced at Carl, Abraham, Maggie, Glenn, and finally back around to Daryl.

"All right we'll go," said Rick, and then he leaned forward. "But if you try _anything_ —"

"I won't," Jesus interrupted. "I checked out your community to get a good feel for you guys. I was in your armory, I could have stolen a gun, I didn't. We're on the same team. Trust me."

Rick stared at him for a long time. "Fine." He turned to Carl. "You go and get the gas from out back. Abraham, can you grab the RV?"

"Sure thing," said Abraham, and he headed towards the door as Carl headed outside.

Rick turned to Michonne. "You should head to the armory, get us some extra guns."

"You're not gonna need them," Jesus stated.

Rick sent him a glare and then turned back to Michonne. "Some big ones, small ones," continued Rick as if Jesus hadn't interrupted. "Maybe a knife or two." Michonne nodded and stood up, placing her sword on her back, and headed towards the door.

Carl came back in at that moment with two jugs of gas and one can of oil. "It probably needs a change," he told his dad. Rick nodded and Carl watched as Michonne headed out. "Bye, Mom," he called. Michonne froze and sent him a death glare. Daryl snickered, and then it turned into a cough when Michonne stared at him. She focused back on Carl.

"See if I ever find you any comic books again." And with those words, Michonne left.

At that moment Judith started to cry. "I'll get her," said Carl, and he was gone before Rick could say anything, and he didn't return until Abraham had pulled up with the RV.

"Give me Judith and go ahead and gas her up," Rick told Carl, who nodded and did as he was told.

"I'll get started on the oil," said Daryl.

"I'll start packin' a few supplies for the road," Maggie said softly.

"Okay. I'll stay here and keep watch," stated Glenn, eyeing Jesus.

"How long's it gonna take for you people to trust me?"

"A while," Glenn said.

"You stole our food truck," Rick reminded Jesus, "broke out of jail, broke into my house, and then barged into my bedroom demandin' to talk."

"Okay, those are several isolated things that just so happen to add up." Rick just stared at him. "Would help if I said I'm sorry?"

"No," both Glenn and Rick said at the same time.

They sat in silence until both Michonne and Maggie entered the house again. Michonne had several guns strapped around her.

"You're not going into a war zone," Jesus exclaimed. Michonne sent him a look, keeping eye contact as she placed at least half dozen guns on the table.

"Never can be too safe," said Michonne coolly. She handed Rick two knives and two more guns, and then divvied up the rest of them. "I already gave Abraham and Daryl theirs outside." She glanced at Rick and jerked her head. Without a word the two of them made their way to the stairs. "I didn't know what you wanted to give Carl. He hasn't been shooting that long with one eye." Her voice was low.

"I'll talk to him, figure it out. Let him choose what he's most comfortable with."

Michonne nodded and Judith reached out for her. Michonne smiled and grabbed her. "You should change. I'll watch Jesus and Judith." Rick nodded and headed upstairs, listening to Michonne talk to Judith. "How _are_ you today, Judith?" Judith made a few noises. "Yah? All that's already happened? You wouldn't _believe_ the day I had. We have a road trip planned already."

Rick couldn't hear the rest of the conversation as he got higher upstairs, and Michonne started to walk away. He smiled to himself, relieved to have her.

He couldn't believe it'd taken him so long to see it.

He reached his bedroom and started unbuttoning his shirt, glancing at the evidence of last night's endeavors. He changed into a white tee and grabbed his jacket, and then headed back downstairs.

"Okay let's go," Rick said.

"Wait," stated Jesus. "Can I use your bathroom?"

Rick tilted his head to the side. "You can use the one on the RV."

"I really don't like enclosed spaces, and—"

"No," Rick said.

"It's okay," said Michonne softly. "I'll stay with him." He looked at her for a long time and then finally nodded. She handed Judith off to him.

"I'll go talk to Carl then." She nodded. He picked up a machine gun and handed it to Michonne. " _Don't_ be afraid to use it if you need to." He eyed Jesus as he spoke.

"I won't." He looked at her, his eyes softening softly, and then glared at Jesus one more time before leaving.

"Bathroom's this way," said Michonne. "Though you probably already know that."

"Look, I'm sorry about walking in on you and Rick. I just felt like we really needed to talk, and at least I waited until you were done."

Michonne turned to look at him. "Were you _listening_?"

"It wasn't that hard. You two weren't exactly quiet." She could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Don't make me shoot you," responded Michonne. He laughed and Michonne pointed to the bathroom.

He didn't take long, and when he was finished they walked together.

"Look, it's obvious you're really the one in charge here," he started.

"How is that obvious?"

"Because Rick listens to you, and I'd bet you're the only one he _really_ listens to."

"Rick is the leader."

"So is the President, but everyone knows it's the VP that does all the work."

Michonne turned to him and glared at him. "What is it you want?"

"Get Rick to trust me. I'm one of the good guys."

"You'll have to earn that trust yourself. And… for the record… if Rick didn't already trust you somewhat, not only would we not be going, but you'd already be dead. You'd have been killed the minute you broke into our house. Rick doesn't play about his family. So I'd think twice before pulling any other stunts with him."

Jesus stared at her. "Point taken."

Michonne nodded and the two of them exited the house, Glenn nearly bumping into them and Maggie walking towards them. Michonne glanced up to see Rick and Carl looking at her. She let them have their moment and headed to the RV.

"Thanks for not shooting me," Jesus told her.

Despite everything that'd happened, she couldn't help but smile. "The day's still early," she reminded him. Jesus grinned. "Get on the RV. We'll be leaving soon."

Jesus watched as everyone got on, and then Rick started the engine and they headed out. The car ride was silent for the first several miles. Eventually Maggie started to doze off, and then Abraham and Glenn started whispering.

Jesus took that time as an opportunity to talk to Michonne, making sure Rick heard him as well. "So how long will it be before Rick actually trusts me?"

Michonne shrugged. "Took him weeks to warm up to me, but the feeling was mutual. We didn't actually get along when we first met." Jesus looked surprised. "I'm serious. First he left me outside a prison with walkers next to me."

" _That_ is not exactly how that happened," disagreed Rick.

" _Then_ he locked me in a cell," Michonne continued as if he hadn't spoken, " _and_ took my sword. This was after I'd bought Judith baby food, by the way. Then he was interrogating me and decided to apply pressure to my gunshot wound, even though I was answering his questions." She glanced at him slyly. "I helped the group get back Maggie and Glenn, they'd been kidnapped by a sociopath, and when I snuck off to kill said sociopath and came back, Rick pointed a gun in my face and took my sword again."

"You are leaving _so_ much out," Rick grinned.

"So how'd you win him over?"

" _I_ didn't. According to Rick, Carl made the decision."

Jesus stared between them. "So what you're saying is, you don't have any intel for me," he said to Michonne.

"No. You'll have to earn his trust like everyone else did."

Jesus heard Abraham shuffle in his seat and looked back at him. He and Glenn seemed to be done talking. Daryl was in the corner, his eyes alert. Jesus wondered if he ever relaxed. Facing forward again he saw the way Rick reached out and brushed Michonne's knee.

Yah, thought Jesus, these were good people all right. They'd learn to trust, and so would he. And maybe, just maybe, they could learn to coexist in the next world.


	54. Baby Richonne

A/N: HELLO my lovelies! I am going out of town tomorrow (Friday) through Monday. I am scheduled for a MUCH needed vacation so I am headed to NEW YORK for Afropunk Fest. I'm SO excited, particularly to see Ice Cube and Janelle Monae. Pray really hard I run into Lenny and Zoe Kravitz, AND seeing Danai would be the SHIT lol. IDT it'll happen, but a girl can dream, right? ANWAY, feel free to leave a prompt or two while I'm gone =]

* * *

 _Prompt – "A part two, set in the future with her pregnant, Carl home for the delivery, Rick over the moon, lol, would be nice._ _Thank you._ _–Literaturechick"_

 _This takes place in the "A New Beginning World" Universe (Chapter 14) where Richonne are married._

 _KIND OF contains spoilers, but not really, because it's speculation since, you know, we had a cliffhanger._

 **BABY RICHONNE**

 **Rated T**

Michonne sighed softly, her hand on her stomach as she felt her baby kick. She leaned back against the couch. She rubbed her stomach softly and a few seconds later Rick was right there.

"You okay?" he asked urgently.

Michonne closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, attempting to remain patient. She understood his concern. His wife had died giving birth, Maggie had had complications with her pregnancy, but Michonne's pregnancy had gone fairly well, so _why_ he was _constantly_ checking on her _every five seconds_ was beyond her.

"I'm fine, Rick," said Michonne with the utmost patient.

"You sure?"

"I think I know by now when I'm okay. I _am_ an adult, after all, as hard as that may be to believe." Her voice had taken on an edge but Rick didn't seem bothered. That was another problem. Why the hell was he always so damn understanding? He just accepted her hormonal attitude with a smile and a nod.

Didn't he ever get angry or annoyed?

Well, he did one time, she remembered with a smile. She'd been nagging about something during her second trimester – she couldn't remember what at the moment – but she had snapped at him and Rick had finally snapped back.

The make-up sex had been _incredible_.

Afterwards he had explained to her that he was always going to patient, that he didn't know how else to be, and that she _had_ to accept that, so she had tried to, but it wasn't always easy. Sometimes his concern and patience wore her pretty thin, but she figured she had to accept all of him, not just pieces.

Besides, it was only the baby making her feel this way.

Rick sat down beside her and placed his hand on her stomach, his wedding ring glistening in the sunlight. She sent him a soft smile and intertwined their fingers together. The baby started kicking again and Rick smiled.

"I think I'd like to take a walk today," Michonne told him.

"Really? You slept all day yesterday."

"I know but I have all this energy today. I haven't had the chance to really walk around Hilltop. Every time I try to—"

"You get tired out," interrupted Carl, Judith in his arms, walking into the room. He walked up to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then kissed her stomach.

"I feel _fine_ today," said Michonne. "In fact, I think we should take Judith."

"Yah!" Judith exclaimed, clapping.

"Then it's settled." Michonne stood up – or at least attempted to do so, it took her a few tries – and then she turned around and met Rick with a gentle kiss. "I'll go and get dressed and meet you out front."

She waddled out of the room and headed upstairs, where she ran into Maggie.

"Hey," the younger girl said. "I was jus' lookin' for you. Thought you might still be sleep. How you feelin'?"

"Good," smiled Michonne. "I was just about to go and get dressed. I feel like taking a walk. Where's Hershel?"

"With Tara. He's awake, so if you want to go see him before your walk you can."

"Okay. I'll see you in a little while." Maggie sent Michonne a genuine smile, patting the pregnant woman on her arm. Michonne headed up the stairs, more than mindful of the fact that Rick and Carl were watching her.

She threatened she would bite their arms off like a walker if they didn't stop trying to help her up the stairs.

She was pregnant, not incapable of doing anything.

She was _fine_.

She got dressed and made her way downstairs to find Rick and Carl waiting for her, Judith already reaching up for her as she made her way downstairs, Hershel in her arms, Tara behind her.

"Look who's joining us for our walk," Michonne said.

Together all of them made their way outside, Rick's hand on the small of Michonne's back, gently rubbing it. It calmed her and soothed her.

They made their way outside, Jesus waving to them as they approached. They smiled and waved in return and the small group made their way around the grounds.

They were half way around the Hilltop when Michonne felt the first sharp pain. She groaned, bending over slightly, her hand on her stomach.

Well shit, she thought.

They had had a few false alarms over the past few weeks. It was the main reason why they had decided to move to the Hilltop to finish out her pregnancy. Her false alarms were terrifying for Rick so they had moved here so that they could be close to Dr. Carson.

This felt different.

"Michonne," Rick said, immediately.

She took a deep breath. "I'm okay," said Michonne.

"Are you?"

"Yah." She took another deep breath and righted herself up. Carl took Hershel from her but kept his eyes on her, eyeing her warily. "I'm good. Come on."

"Maybe we should go back," Carl suggested. Before Michonne could disagree she groaned again.

"We're goin' to Dr. Carson," said Rick firmly.

"I'll take Judith and Hershel," Tara said. "You guys head over."

"I'm—" started Michonne.

"We're goin'," Rick said firmly. Rick's voice had that air of someone who couldn't be argued with, and then another sharp pain had her nodding her head.

"Okay."

Together they made their way to Dr. Carson's trailer, Carl helping her one side, Rick o the other. Dr. Carson smiled at them the minute he saw them.

"She's havin' pains," Rick told him.

"Okay let's get a look at you," stated Dr. Carson. "Tell me what's going on?"

"I'm going into labor," Michonne said.

"Let's not jump the gun," said Dr. Carson.

"Trust me, I am. My water just broke."

" _What_?" Rick shouted.

Dr. Carson took that as his cue. "How far apart are your contractions?"

"I have no idea," Michonne said. "I've been having pains since last night but I thought they were another false alarm." She saw Rick stiffen beside her. "I'm sorry I—"

"It's not a big deal," said Dr. Carson, assuring Rick. "It happens more often than you think, especially in women who've already had children. We'll get you situated and see how far along you are."

…

Rick held Michonne's hand, ignoring the fact that despite the fact they were in the middle of an apocalypse she was very much just like the stereotypical woman giving birth. Lori had screamed similar things to him at the time she had Carl… the difference was Rick actually believed Michonne had the capability to slice his head open with her katana if he evet touched her again.

Rick realized that he was very close to losing his hand if Michonne didn't stop squeezing him the way she was. He wrestled out of her grip and she turned to him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice panicked.

"Just tryin' to retain some circulation," reassured Rick.

"Don't leave," Michonne told him.

Rick gave her a soft smile. "I'm not goin' anywhere." After flexing his fingers a couple of times he slid them back into hers and she gave him a soft smile. "I don't mean it. Everything I say…." She flinched as another wave of pain hit her. "I love you, you know that, right?"

Rick nodded. "I know." Michonne cried out, squeezing her eyes shut, as another contraction hit. Rick glanced at the screen. "The worst is over," he told her."

She glared at him. " _Shut up_."

…

"Okay," said Dr. Carson, "give me one more push, Michonne. Just one more."

"I can't," Michonne moaned. "I've been pushing for _hours_. It's a boy. I _know_ it is, because Grimes men are _stubborn_." She shot Rick a look as if it were all his fault.

"Momma's pretty stubborn too," mumbled Rick, and Michonne snarled. "But you're right, us Grimes men are much more stubborn. How about you _don't_ prove me right about bein' stubborn, and you actually push for us?"

Michonne took a deep breath and pushed again, squeezing Rick's hand harder than ever, a scream on her lips.

"There's the head!" Dr. Carson said. Michonne whimpered. "Come on, push again, Michonne." She did as she was told, and then did it a third time, until Dr. Carson yelled out jovially. Michonne sat back, clearly exhausted.

"How is my baby?"

Michonne tried to sit up but her vision was a little blurry. It didn't matter, though, after a few taps she heard the sound of a baby crying. Dr. Carson didn't immediately respond but a few seconds later he was in front of her.

"You two have a beautiful baby girl," Dr. Carson told her, and handed the baby to her.

"Oh my God." Michonne felt the tears as she stared at her lovely baby. She was gorgeous: she had honey toned skin, a head full of dark curls, and bright blue eyes that were identical to her father's. she had full lips and the tiniest little button nose and eyes shaped just like Andre – _her_ eyes.

Michonne looked up at Rick, who seemed too stunned to move. She motioned him over and he made his way to her, clearly already emotional. Rick stood next to the bed and Michonne lifted up their daughter and Rick timidly took the baby from her.

"She is beautiful," whispered Rick, his voice thick with tears.

"What are you going to name her?" Dr. Carson asked.

Rick looked up at Michonne. They had had a million discussions about it over the months. Daryl was content on calling her Little Ass-Kicker Jr. but Rick and Michonne had shut that down.

"Have you thought about it?"

"Yah, we have," nodded Rick.

…

Carl walked into the room, not at all ashamed at the fact that everyone else was waiting on him. Dr. Carson's trailer wasn't that large, so only a few people could fit in at a time. Maggie and Jesus and everyone else would have to wait.

He found his dad holding a small bundle wrapped in a pink blanket.

"She's a girl," breathed Carl.

Rick nodded, smiling. Rick walked up to him and handed him the newborn. "Carl, I'd like you to meet your baby sister: Zariah Nia Grimes."

* * *

A/N: Her name is pronounced Zar-Ree-Uh. She'll be called Zari (Zar-ee) for short. There's a baby going around on the internet of a brown-skinned blue eyed baby girl as Baby Richonne. Hashtag it, she's wearing a yellow head-wrap and she is GORGEOUS. That's who I'm picturing as their little girl. Hope you all enjoyed. I wouldn't mind having some prompts with baby Zari.


	55. All I Got

_Prompt—"_ _I know your getting a lot of requests but i was wondering if you could possible use this song to come up with something fabulous and amazing that I can read over and over / thank you_ _  
_ _K. Michelle - All I Got_ _" –Guest_

 _I like K. Michelle but I was NOT inspired by this song. I HOPE I did it justice, "Guest." I apologize if you don't like it. It wasn't just the lyrics (I don't think they made sense). I didn't like what K. Michelle did with the beat at ALL. BUT I tried LOL. Thanks for the prompt._

 _This takes place shortly after Negan bashes someone's brains in with Lucille._

 _I'll give you my heart_

 _And some of my time_

 _And if you do wrong_

 _A piece of my mind_

 _I'll give you some space_

 _If that's what you want_

 _It's not much but it's all that I got_

 _Lettin' it all out,_

 _Breakin' these walls down_

 _Nowhere to hide now_

 _It's not much but it's all that I got_

 _If all I got is the love I was promised, I'm good (I'm good)_

 _Even if it's all I got_

 _If all I got is the touch of your body, I'm good (I'm good)_

 _Even if it's all I got_

 **ALL I GOT**

 **Rated T**

Michonne lied next to Rick, listening to his breathing. It was late, way passed the middle of the night and closer to early morning.

She hadn't slept a wink.

Rick barely had either. Every time he seemed to close his eyes he was plagued with nightmares.

Negan. Lucille landing on different people. Sometimes her. Sometimes Carl. Even Judith.

Never Rick, though. No, in his nightmares, Rick was always spared, always forced to live with the guilt, always forced to watch but still survive.

He hadn't worked out how to forgive himself yet.

Not that anyone blamed him. Not really. Not truly. What was said in anger and in pain and in hurt was quickly taken back, and now they were just trying to heal.

They had to heal.

But Rick wasn't coping so well.

She didn't know how to help him. She had never not been able to reach him before. She didn't know what to do with herself, with her time, with her love.

She wanted to give him everything that she had, but he wouldn't take it.

He wasn't pushing her away, per say, but he needed space. That much was obvious. So she would give him space, if that's what it took.

It wasn't easy.

It was why she was wide awake. It was damned difficult to not be able to offer him any comfort because he refused to take it. A part of Michonne felt like Rick felt as if he deserved the misery.

He didn't.

Still, he was the leader, so the blame rested on his shoulder, no matter what was said or how anyone else felt.

Rick shifted and she took a risk and turned to face him. He met her stare, his eyes weary, and it was like he had aged a million years.

Her heart ached for him.

But at least he was looking at her. That was more than he had done in weeks.

She hesitantly reached out and caressed his face. His eyes fluttered closed and he breathed in deeply. Taking advantage of his momentarily blindness she brushed her lips against his. He stiffened, his eyes opening, and he pulled away.

"Don't," she told him. "Don't push me away. Not anymore."

"How can you stand to even look at me?"

Michonne shrugged softly. "I love you. And my love is all I got. It's all _we've_ got." Rick shook his head and Michonne cupped his cheek again. "Just let me take it away for a while. Give _me_ your pain. I can handle it. You think you've done wrong, let me give you peace of mind. No more walls, Rick." She kissed him again, kissed him until he reluctantly started to respond.

His body betrayed him before his mind allowed it.

She rolled onto her back, and prepared to give herself all of him.

A/N: Wrote this with Comic Rick in mind, who's full of self-loathing after Negan's attack. I PRAY we don't get this Rick on the show. I might really keel over from annoyance.


	56. Of His, Theirs, or Ours

A/N: Guys: I am OFFICIALLY back! A lot of you know that a couple of months ago I hit a really dark place with all the killings by police, and I kind of shut down. Inspiration struck, but barely. Then on Monday I wrote SIX stories. My brain's in over drive, and for the first time since Philandro Castille was murdered, I can say that I am back in high Richonne gear. I will be posting more frequently again. Probably still not every day, but three or four times a week. Feel free to start leaving prompts again, the juices are flowing. I just got a really good Michonne one that I'll probably start working on this weekend.

Also, I'm sure with s6 being released on Netflix soon that I'll be able to write even more.

Thanks yall!

* * *

 _Because for some reason I can't get baby angst out of my head. Sorry._

 **OF HIS, THEIRS, OR OURS**

 **Rated T+**

Rick nibbled on Michonne's neck. Michonne shifted slightly, granting Rick better access. His lips trailed along her shoulder blade and further down. Her fingers made their way through Rick's curls, her fingers gripping his hair and dragging his head back up so their lips could connect. He slid on top of her, mother than ready, more than eager, when they were interrupted.

Rick sagged on top of her while Michonne sighed.

"Think she does it on purpose?" asked Rick.

Michonne chuckled. "I don't know, but it's happening too often to be a coincidence. And it's happening earlier and earlier every time. Maybe _she_ can see _us_ in the baby monitor." Rick rolled off of her and started to get up. "I'll get her," Michonne volunteered. She slid out of bed, grabbing Rick's shirt and slipping it on. She put on her pants and walked down the hall to a crying Judith. "Okay, Sweetheart. What's wrong?" Michonne approached the crib and stared at Judith, her heart dropping. "Rick. _Rick_!"

Michonne grabbed Judith, who was redder than normal, noting she was burning up. Rick was in the room in the flash, Carl behind him.

"What's wrong?" asked Rick.

"She's got a fever. She's burning up." Rick stood there for a few moments, just staring from Michonne to Judith, listening to his baby girl's screams. " _Rick_. We need to get to the Hilltop."

"It's snowing outside," Carl pointed out.

"I'll get the RV," said Rick, and then he was gone. Carl approached Michonne and his screaming sister.

"She doesn't look good."

Michonne held Judith close, taking a deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed. "I need you to go and get dressed. Dress warmly. I'll get Judith ready."

Carl nodded and started to leave, then turned and faced Michonne again. "It'll be okay." Michonne nodded, not really hearing him. She just started rummaging around for Judith's things, cursing the fact that Alexandria didn't have a doctor. In retrospect, this was very stupid. With her hands shaking Michonne gathered everything she needed and then headed to Carl's room.

"Hold her while I get dressed." Carl nodded and Michonne headed back to her room, heading towards her closet. She put on several layers, not even aware of what she was really doing or putting on.

A few seconds later Daryl came running upstairs. "What's wrong with Little Ass-Kicker?"

"I don't know," Michonne stated. "She's got a high fever, that much I know." She walked passed him and headed back towards Carl's.

"He's already downstairs," said Daryl, and together they made their way downstairs. Rick pulled up at that moment. "I'll take care of everything here while ya'll are away." Rick nodded absentmindedly. Daryl placed his hand on Rick's shoulder. "She'll be fine, man. She comes from you."

Rick, Michonne, and Carl all made their way to the RV, Judith in Carl's arms. The ride to the Hilltop consisted of Judith's screams, Rick looking back every few seconds, Michonne holding Judith and walking up and down the aisle, trying to calm her, Rick, Carl, and herself.

It felt like it took forever to get to the Hilltop, and Rick nearly went through the gates. They all got out of the RV, the gates already opening. They could Jesus and Maggie running towards them.

"What is it?" asked Maggie, breathless. "What's wrong?"

"Judith. She has a fever, and she hasn't stopped crying," Michonne said.

Maggie nodded and they all immediately made their way towards Dr. Carson's. He opened the door immediately, noted the crying baby, and immediately went into doctor mode. He grabbed Judith and started asking questions.

"How long has she had a fever?" asked Dr. Carson.

"I'm not sure," Michonne said. "She was fine around three AM when I went in and checked on her after I got home from watch."

Dr. Carson nodded and continued looking her over. "I'm sure she just has a normal cold. The season's changed, it's her first winter in snow, I'm sure that's all it is. I have a few different medicines I can try. I have some aspirin I can give her to lower her fever, that's most important. Is anyone allergic to asprin?"

"No," Rick said. "Her mother wasn't, and I—" Rick paused, briefly, his heart relocating to his stomach. He glanced at Dr. Carson for a second, and this eyes shifted to Michonne. She stared at him, her eyes never leaving his, and then he finally glanced at Carl. He looked away, taking a deep breath, and looked at Dr. Carson again. "Don't give her Aspirin," amended Rick.

"What? Why not?" Carl asked. "I've taken it before and was fine."

Rick closed his eyes briefly.

"If Carl's not allergic," said Dr. Carson, "the chances of Judith being allergic are slim to none."

"She might be allergic to Aspirin," Rick snapped. "Find her somethin' else." And then he turned on his heels and walked out.

Carl looked after his father and then glanced at Michonne. "What's his problem? My mom wasn't allergic to Aspirin and neither is he. The only person I know allergic to Aspirin was—" It hit Carl like a ton of bricks. "Shane." Carl looked at Judith for several moments. "No." Then he was hot on his father's heels.

Carl found his father a few feet away, his body tense.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Carl demanded.

"Because it never mattered before now," stated Rick plainly.

"Bull _shit_."

"Watch your mouth," Rick snapped, looking at Carl. Carl felt sick. "This is why I didn't wanna tell you," said Rick, his tone a little gentler. "It doesn't matter. It _shouldn't_ matter. She's your sister, no matter who her father is. And she's _my_ daughter."

Carl took a deep breath. "I feel like I owe you a million apologies." Rick shook his head. "I said a lot of horrible things, made a lot of assumptions…." Carl looked at his dad. "I accused you of things after the prison fell, that first night when you were unconscious." Rick remained silent. "You knew."

"Yah," said Rick softly. "I did."

"Dad, I—"

"It doesn't matter," Rick assured Carl. "It doesn't. Jus' like if she's mine or not doesn't matter. And you can't let it taint the view of her mother, especially 'cause she's not here to defend herself."

"What's there to defend?"

"They thought I was dead."

Carl remained silent, deciding to keep his opinions to himself, and he was saved from having to respond when Michonne came outside. "I'll keep an eye on Judith," mumbled Carl, and then he was gone.

Rick was silent for a while, and so was Michonne.

"You knew," he finally said. Michonne nodded. "I guess if the Governor knew you would too."

Michonne took a deep breath. "Andrea cared about Shane. He was the one she talked about the most. But she made it very clear she was falling for a man who was in love with his best friend's wife. She also mentioned that she had left at the perfect time. Lori had just found out she was pregnant and no one needed a newborn in an apocalypse. Andrea so happened to mention the fact that Lori didn't know who the father of the child was. When I found you guys… and I realized this was the group Andrea had left, all I could remember was that she said you guys were good people. I never came across a Shane or Lori, but it wasn't hard to figure out that you were Rick, or that Judith was that baby. It showed me what kind of man you were, though, and made me realize I needed the group. That I needed _you_."

Rick glanced at her. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Michonne shrugged. "It didn't matter. You loved Judith as if she were your own. Ultimately she _is_ yours. I know a thing or two about loving a child that isn't exactly yours. Judith and Carl taught me about that. At the end of the day… blood doesn't always make you family."

At that moment Dr. Carson stepped outside. "Judith's fever is already going down," he told them. "Like I said, I think it's just a common cold. It's perfectly normal. I'd like to keep her here overnight, but I'm sure she'll be fine."

Rick and Michonne nodded. Dr. Carson nodded and went back inside.

"Come on," Michonne said. "Let's go check on _your_ daughter."

Rick grabbed her hand. " _Ours_ ," corrected Rick.

Michonne's eyes softened and swallowed down the emotions threatening to spill out. She nodded, and the two of them made their way back inside.

* * *

A/N: Wrote this cus I always kinda wanted to know how Carl woulda reacted if he ever found out about his mom and Shane. A part of me thinks he's still oblivious, the other part of me thinks he knows. What do yall think?


	57. In Deep

A/N: I got A LOT of responses to if Carl knew about Lori/Shane. I am of the opinion that as he got older he started to piece things together. I think someone at some point probably would have let something slip – maybe nothing significant, but a lot of insignificant clues when put together can suddenly become very significant. With that said, I don't think we'll ever know. Gimple the Simpleton doesn't tend to finish out storylines. He just ends them.

* * *

 _Ya'll know I hate song-fics, but every now and then I AM inspired by songs. This one-shot was inspired by the incomparable Fantasia. Title is taken from her song of the same name. Consider this Richonne's first time since SOMEBODY was Lucille'd._

 **IN DEEP**

 **Rated M for smut**

 _I'm not scared if I bleed_

 _If I tear it proves to me_

 _The love I shared was worth_

 _Every drop (drop, drop, drop)_

 _And lord knows I don't want_

 _This to stop_

 _I wanna go in deep_

 _With you_

 _I wanna go in deep_

 _With you_

 _I wanna feel your scars_

 _And cherish every flaw_

 _I wanna go in deep_

 _With you_

 _I wanna dig my nails into you_

 _Strip you down to your truths_

 _Take your dark side_

 _I'll take your sunshine too (too, too, too)_

 _I'll let you inside_

 _And you can have mine too_

 _I wanna go in deep_

Michonne gasped as Rick pushed her against the wall. His lips crushed hers and she responded, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth. His calloused hands were hot on her body as he snaked his hands under her shirt.

Somehow he got his shirt off of her, and flinging it behind him his lips made their way down her neck and to her breasts. She moaned softly as he fixed his lips around her breasts, his tongue working miracles.

His teeth bit into her stomach and Michonne cried out. He yanked her pants and panties down and then his tongue was inside of her. Her body bucked and she gripped his hair, attempting to keep her calm.

She was seconds away from screaming.

It seemed selfish to capitalize on his pain, but that was what she was here for.

He was hurting, bleeding, disappointed, and he was moments away from shutting down, so if this is what he needed from her to make it back from darkness, then so be it.

This is what she had always wanted when it came to love: taking the good and the bad, the dark and the light, the up and the down.

That's what being in deep meant.

He would never recover from Negan. No matter what happened, that moment in time would always be in the back of his mind.

Hopefully she could make him forget for a little while.

Her first orgasm had her loud and breathless, and it wasn't until he pulled away that she was able to catch her breath. They started undressing rapidly, Michonne nearly tripping in her haste to take off her clothes, and before long Rick's body was covering her own.

He wasted no time – he hardly ever did, but this time was different – before entering her, and it was brutal. She was okay with it. She wanted everything from him: his fears, his hurts, his desires, his truths, his scars, his flaws. She wanted his pain, because she could handle it, and if she bled, so what.

He was worth every drop.

She dug her nails into his skin as the pleasure and pain mixed together, her back arching, her groan low, her body slick. He grunted in her ear, his face buried in her neck, his breath shallow, his strokes deep.

He was in a dark place, but she had enough light for him. They would get through this.

He went deeper and she locked her legs around him, arching her back and meeting his thrusts. She could feel another orgasm building and she stuttered out his name, her voice getting louder and louder. At some point he seemed to take note. He lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes so dark they were nearly black, and then he lowered himself and kissed her.

It was hard, no tenderness in sight, but it quieted her, which Michonne assumed was his reasoning for kissing her. She unraveled, attempting to scream his name and continue to kiss him at the same time.

Rick sped up and went deeper, and eventually he removed his lips from hers and started leaving them in other places: her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. He was all over her. He grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head so that she could no longer touch him.

He wanted the control, needed it, so she allowed it, despite the fact that she desperately wanted to touch him. Yet his grip was firm, his eyes distant.

He was here, but he wasn't here.

She wished she could touch him, offer him something more, but he seemed to be so far off….

It wasn't until he bent down to kiss her again that she took some control back. She softened the kiss until his body melted into hers and he _finally_ cupped her cheek, letting her hands go.

"Cum," he grunted, and she did, Rick following closely behind her. She couldn't stop herself from getting loud, and Rick let her, his own loud grunts matching his thrusts.

They finished together, their cries growing softer at the same time, and then he collapsed on top of her, winded and breathless.

She wrapped her arms around him, her fingertips brushing the curls at the base of his neck.

They didn't know what was next. Negan had one up on them, but none of them knew how to bow down quietly.

There would be war, there would be loss, there would be pain.

But that was the whole point of being in deep.


	58. Complete

_Sooo wasn't it SUCH a beautiful moment for Grimes 2.0 when they were reunited with Judith in "No Sanctuary?" I just HAD to write a one-shot about what Michonne thought_.

 **COMPLETE**

 **Rated T**

Michonne stayed silent as Abraham, Rosita, Glenn, and Maggie argued with Rick about whether or not to kill the rest of the people from Terminus. One one hand, Rick was right. They needed to finish this. But on the other hand… on the other hand they were _tired_ , they'd nearly just lost their lives, and Michonne just wanted to get the hell out of dodge.

One thing was for certain: _somebody_ needed to end this argument, and quickly, so that they could make a damn decision and get the hell up out of here.

"The fences are down," Maggie said. "They'll run or die."

Rick looked around, and she knew eventually his eyes would land on hers. His eyes _always_ landed on hers. Either that or she'd have spoken, making a decision one way or another.

Which would have happened first – whether he would seek her out, or if she would speak – would never come to pass.

Daryl suddenly turned around, and then he was running, and Michonne was immediately on guard, grabbing her knife and shifting.

She stopped when she saw Daryl hugging Carol.

All of them seemed frozen on the spot for a long time. Rosita, Abraham, and Eugene all looked on, slightly confused. Maggie laughed, clearly shocked, and then Rick and Carl were walking behind Daryl.

Michonne stayed put for a few more moments. She knew what Carol had done. She was one of the few that Rick had secretly confided in. It had been dangerous and stupid, but Michonne was still on the fence about Rick having sent her away.

She wasn't quite sold that that had been his call.

One by one, they all slowly moved in the direction towards Carol: Bob, Sasha, Maggie. Michonne took a disbelieving step forward, but stopped once Rick spoke.

"Did you do that?" asked Rick.

Michonne thought the answer to that question was pretty obvious figuring the way Carol looked and was dressed. She didn't answer, and Rick didn't need her to. The two of them embraced for several moments.

The family was back together again.

"You have to come with me," Carol told Rick, holding on to him.

Rick turned and looked behind him, and that seemed to be signal the rest of the group. They were all hugging Carol, Michonne included. Then they headed off, Carol leading the way.

Terminus was all but forgotten.

"What are you thinkin'?" Rick asked her as they walked.

Michonne stared at him. "That if you had never sent her away, she'd never have saved us."

Rick nodded. "I wonder where she's takin' us."

"Doesn't matter to me. Long as it's as far away from Terminus as possible."

Rick shook his head. "I couldn't help but wonder how the hell we were gonna get outta that. When we were tied up, I didn't know what I was gonna do. But I knew I was gonna do somethin'."

"The new ones…." Michonne shook her head. "They were so nervous while we were in that train cart. Carl stepped up and told them, plain as day, that you would come for us. I never doubted it. We told them to start making weapons, and to be ready for you. I think they were truly shocked when you opened that door."

Rick glanced at her. "But you weren't."

Michonne met his gaze. "Hell no." She'd learned enough about him by now to know. "Whether Carol had come or not, I wasn't worried. 'Cus either we were going to find a way out, or you were going to find a way in. My guess was you finding a way in. Carl was in there."

He looked at her again. "Not just Carl."

Michonne's steps faltered a little and she let Rick walk ahead of her.

She wouldn't dwell too much on it, she told herself as she now followed behind him. It just meant more to her than she ever thought it would, to know that he really, truly, genuinely, would include her.

Things had changed between them, obviously. He'd never directly said anything, but he hadn't liked her going after the Governor. He never told her not to – his request would have fallen on deaf ears, regardless – but he was never happy with her decision to disappear, be it alone or with Daryl.

Yet hearing him say that he would try to get her, touched her in a way that she hadn't felt in a long time.

But before she could dwell on that thought, before it could manifest its way into her head and to her heart, Rick took off running. Her first instinct was to grab her sword, but she heard a startled cry, and a few seconds later, she knew why.

Tyreese was just up ahead, barely exiting out of a house, holding—

Michonne's heart stopped.

 _Judith_.

Her desire to run up next to Carl and Rick was paramount, but she refrained herself, as difficult as it was. They needed this moment. They deserved this moment. They were entitled to this moment.

And she… even with what Rick said… she didn't belong in that moment. This moment was for them.

Sasha whirled passed her, and a few seconds later she was in Tyreese's arms.

If there had been any part of her that didn't believe before, it was erased now. She felt the smile on her face, and she felt the tears, especially when Rick went over and thanked Tyreese.

Tyreese, who had been angry, and wild at Karen's death, yet had had a cool enough head to grab Judith when the Governor had attacked.

Rick reached out and grabbed Carl, and he looked up at her then, and she took that as her cue. She walked up to them, keeping her emotions in check, and searched her soul to see if there was any jealousy there, that Judith had made it when Andre hadn't.

There wasn't.

Just relief. Immense, complete, totally, utter relief, that Judith was okay, and had been okay all this time.

"I knew it," was all she was able to say when she reached them, and she _had_. She had _known_. Somehow, some way, she had known that Judith was still alive. It was the same feeling, the same force, that had led her to that front porch of the house that Rick and Carl had been residing in.

That same feeling, that same _knowledge_ that let her know that Rick would come to that train cart.

Michonne caressed Judith's hair, finally content. They were whole again. Her family was whole. She looked around, noting that they were all reunited.

Not just whole, she realized.

They were complete.


	59. Making it Count

_Prompt—"I have a prompt. Not sure if anyone else has prompted this. Prompt: (missing conversation) It's from 6x12, Not Yet Tomorrow when TF heads out before going to Negan's compound. They are on the road and looking for a walker likeness of Gregory to take with them. Anyway, there's a scene where Michonne heads down the road. After Rick talks with Carol, Rick catch's up to Michonne in the distant. What my prompt is, what in the world were they doing? Did they walk further so no one could see them? Did they get a little kissing in? What did they talk about, etc? Thank you!" –Box5angel_

 _I was so excited to do this prompt, and then I watched the episode, and I got Rosita and her nasty ass attitude and it put me in SUCH a bad mood. Good LORD I hate her._

 _The end._

 **MAKING IT COUNT**

 **Rated T+ for alluding to sex**

Rick caught up to Michonne after his talk with Father Gabriel. The two fell into a natural silence as they looked for walkers to behead. He gripped his gun tightly, the same way she gripped the top of her sword, her dark eyes sweeping the land.

She looked good, he mused.

"Stop checking me out," Michonne stated, and Rick's eyes twinkled.

"It's my _job_ to check you out." She sent him a look that had him frowning. "What's wrong?" She didn't immediately answer. She just kept looking around. "Michonne." He reached out and gently touched her arm, and she stopped and looked at him.

"You should get off Father Gabriel's back. He _is_ who he was. It's the same with Morgan. People have different beliefs. They're entitled to that."

He blinked at her in surprise. "I didn't mean it like that when I asked him why he was still wearin' that."

"It sounded like it." She stepped closer to him, lowering her voice. "You of all people should understand the beauty of faith. You have something – _two_ somethings – that a lot of us have lost. That isn't by coincidence or because you do so much right. It isn't because I've been there at the right time, or you've been there at the right time." Rick stared at her. "You don't have to believe, Rick. But _stop_ making others feel bad for doing so."

Rick looked at her, searching her eyes. "I don't _not_ believe. I just don't know what in the hell _to_ believe. All I know is I don't have time or patience for cowardice."

Michonne nodded. "I know." Her eyes softened a little and she turned and started walking. "Care to explain to me why we needed _two hours_ to find a few walker heads?"

Rick snaked his arms around her waist. "Because I haven't had you since Jesus interrupted us."

Michonne looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "Not true. We had that quickie in the bathroom before we left to Hilltop."

"Okay, then I haven't had you _thoroughly_ since Jesus interrupted us."

Michonne stopped to stare at him. "Rick Grimes, I am not about to have sex with you _outside_ where anyone from our group could stumble upon us."

Rick smirked. "Isn't it kinda late for that?"

"I don't see what's so amusing about all of Alexandria knowing half of our friends found out we were having sex."

Rick chuckled, lowering his lips to her neck. "All of Alexandria does not know."

She put her hand on his chest to stop him. "Glenn knows. All of Alexandria definitely knows. The only thing he ever kept quiet about was Maggie's pregnancy."

Rick snorted and removed her hand from his chest, and the two of them started walking deeper into the woods.

"This seems as good a place as any," Rick stated.

Michonne looked around. "There are no walkers."

"I had no idea you wanted a show." Michonne turned to him and found Rick with his shirt off, and a smirk on his face. Before she could say anything he had approached her and his lips covered hers. She felt herself being pushed against a random tree.

She could feel him, hard, against her, and any argument she had went out of the window.

"Make it quick, Grimes," she said against his mouth as she started pushing down her pants.

"Why? We have a couple of hours."

She laughed as she unbuckled his pants.

She would make every second count.

* * *

A/N: The part where Rick asked Father Gabriel why he was still wearing his collar ALWAYS bothered the hell outta me. Like forreal, forreal.

Also, to anyone who wants, I could use more prompts! I would love some soulmate AU's if anyone has any good ones. Or maybe I should just google "Soulmate AU ideas" LOL.


	60. Relief

_This takes place during "This Sorrowful Life."_

 **RELIEF**

 **Rated K**

Rick could still hear the silence from his meeting, his own words echoing in his head, his own thoughts replaying. He gripped his gun as he walked along the prison's guard post, lost in thought, but also on alert.

He had really been to give her up.

It could be argued at some point that he never would have gone through with it – like he _hadn't_ gone through with it – but for now, he let the guilt eat at him.

He _needed_ to feel it.

He had to.

He'd been embarrassed and ashamed when approaching his group, even though he'd walked up to them with his head held high, and he'd confessed his sins to them.

He wasn't fit to be a leader. Not like this. Not with the weight of the world on his shoulders. People had been trying to tell him… but it wasn't until he'd realized that Merle had gone through with it all that he realized his mistake.

It could no longer be a Ricktatorship.

It wasn't just the pressure…. It was the thought that anybody was worth sacrificing being placed in his hands. He, at one point, had decided to give her up, had asked his confidant if he'd be willing to risk his daughters' lives for her.

At the time he thought he'd really go through with it, but it was something about grabbing that cable cord and wrapping it around his hands that made him realize he couldn't.

" _I can't_ ," Rick had told Hershel. " _I won't_."

And now… now Merle had gone behind his back and fulfilled the deal, and for what? For the Governor to still come and kill them all? He would. Deep down Rick had known that. He'd wasted so much time in thinking about turning her in.

What the hell was he doing?

They were disappointed in him, he knew. _He_ was disappointed in himself. He'd let the Governor get in his head, he let the Governor come between him and his people, and she _was_ his people.

" _I think she's one of us_ ," Carl had told him. Rick could still see the day clearly in his mind: him and his son, standing at the trunk. He'd asked a simple question: " _Everything okay with her?_ " And he'd gotten a mind-blowing answer in return.

She'd been one of them ever since, all she'd ever needed was Carl's stamp of approval, and she'd gotten it. It had made Rick take a look at himself, and it hadn't even taken long. She'd sealed the deal with opening up a little to him.

" _I used to talk to my dead boyfriend. It happens."_

That moment had changed everything… yet he'd sat at that table with the Governor and had considered handing over someone who'd proven herself useful to the group. He'd passed her in the jail cells, he'd looked her in the face, all the while plotting and planning behind her back, and now Daryl was out there, trying to catch up and stop his brother from carrying out the very plan they'd all been in on.

He wouldn't think about if Daryl would be able to find them or not. He wasn't sure how much of a head start Merle had had, but Rick couldn't think about it. He'd gotten to a place where he didn't have the ability to get his hopes up.

He blamed himself. He had no one else to blame but himself. This group… his group had counted on him, and he'd thrown their trust back at them without even thinking about how such a decision could affect them all.

If he could sacrifice her… then who would he sacrifice next?

He could still see the shock on Carol's face as she held Judith, the way her body slightly distanced itself from him. Carl had hung his head in shame, displeasure, and disbelief. Maggie had lowered her own head, averting her eyes, and Glenn had stared back at him, eyes blazing with disappointment. Beth and Hershel had looked on, both of them blinking, Beth's eyes filled with shock, Hershel's face and eyes guarded.

Sometimes it seemed like Hershel was the only one who _got_ him, who truly could see inside of him. He was like the father that Rick couldn't bare to have upset at him.

He'd decided to come up here and keep watch because he'd get to clear his mind. He just needed to _think_. Or stop thinking. He just needed—

Something caught his attention. He immediately raised his gun and then froze.

He was reminded of the first time he ever saw her, slowly approaching the prison fence, holding a basket full of baby formula. He'd been too shocked to do anything other than stare at her, mouth agape, taking in her entire appearance.

Today was no different. Even though he knew she wasn't a threat, his gun stayed trained on her, because he was too stiff to move, he was too shocked to _think_.

She was there… walking, seemingly uninjured, her katana swinging from her hand.

Rick recognized the feeling he had as he finally lowered his gun and he stared across the field and watched her approach the prison. He _knew_ the feeling; it was something he hadn't felt in such a long time that he'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

He watched her in awe, his eyes glued to her figure, even stepping forward as if to get a closer look, although there was no mistaking who she was.

 _Michonne_.

He slowly exhaled – unaware that he'd even been holding his breath – and finally looked away, looking down and nodding.

She was back. She was _safe_.

And he was relieved.

He wasn't sure where they'd go from here, but they would go.

For the first time in a while, Rick allowed a small smile to cross his face. He made his way down the post to go and meet Michonne so they could figure out what to do next.


	61. The Queen of the Apocalypse

_Prompt—"I always feel that the Family don't know or remember how deadly Michonne is. She shoots a gun and gets only head shots. She weals a sword like a real samurai. She also can hold her own in hand to hand combat. Rick never knew what happened when she came back bloody and she never told him. I think the Governor may have said something. But it's almost like, when she came to ASZ-people forgot or didn't know who she was. That's what annoyed me about Sasha's comment, "It worked out for you." Not understanding Michonne's background. I want people to see it. Any kind of beginning. Maybe it was when they were preparing to take out Negan's men. I would love to read a story where Michonne is cleaning her sword and preparing for war. Even taking on Jesus. Practicing her use of the sword, with the tip of it landing on someone's neck that came to close. I don't think Rick even knows how capable she is with a gun since she never used one in his presence. He'd be proud._

 _*Just a story where people are really seeing the Monster in Michonne. She can turn it off and on. And when it's on, you should be scared. Very scared. Oh she must smile about it like when she released the zombies the Governor kept and used them as practice. That smile of, "Bring it on."*_

 _I always felt when she was taken by Negan's men it was like worry for her friends, because they weren't up for the battle. And it was recon work on Negan's base. Plus the way she looked at Negan was the same way she looked at the Governor. I need that Michonne out and for people to be scared. VERY scared. Carol seemed to think Michonne was laid back and okay in ASZ. Thinking they had to be out there in order to practice to keep up their skill. While they need some practice, she has it in her blood. She's been honing her skills for a while. A woman surviving that long alone. Unbeatable." –The Puppeteer_

 _I'm having this take place sometime before AOW. Not really spoilers because it's speculation, though some things do happen in this one-shot that happens in the comics. I also changed it up and made it a little lighter because I'm pretty sure this one-shot sort of sparked another one-shot all together._

 **THE QUEEN OF THE APOCOLYPSE**

 **Rated T**

Ezekiel stared at Michonne, like everyone else was doing, transfixed and silent. The small group watched Michonne, her sword in between her legs, as she attempted to clean the blood off of her sword. Her face was stone cold, her mouth set, her eyes dark, as she continued to wipe her blade.

As beautiful as she was, she could be quite terrifying when she put her mind to it.

Ezekiel had never seen anything like her.

"Where'd you get that thing?" asked Ezekiel.

Michonne glanced up at him, her eyes narrow. "Why?"

"You're incredible with it," he responded casually. "I've never seen anyone do what you did today."

"He's right," said Carl. "I almost forgot how good you were. You reminded me of that warrior I heard about who made her way to a prison with a shot up leg."

"Or the woman who avenged my father," Maggie chimed in.

"Has she done all that?" asked Ezekiel.

"She's done a lot more than that," Rick said softly. "I think half the time we're busy fightin' beside her, so we're not able to see her in action."

"Well we saw her today," Ezekiel said with admiration.

Michonne remained silent, still slightly embarrassed. She had been practicing using her sword, not to mention practicing some basic moves she had learned from Morgan. They were preparing for war, for battle. She had to make sure she was sharp, and focused. She had taken to practicing every morning, sometimes by herself, but most of the time with walkers. Rick hated it – he thought it was an unnecessary and risky, but he understood her need to feel as if she were in control.

Today she had walked out of the Kingdom and baited as many walkers as she could. She wasn't aware that she'd had an audience. She was in the zone, just trying to ensure that she kept herself safe.

To hear applause greeting her ears when she was finished had nearly startled her half to death. She'd walked back into the Kingdom, showered, and found everyone gathered together. She had taken to cleaning her sword when Ezekiel spoke, and then the rest of them chimed in. Michonne decided to change the subject.

"We need to figure out how we're going to protect this place," said Michonne as she finished cleaning her sword. "With Negan out there, anything can happen. We need to be prepared."

"I think from now on we need two people on guard duty," Maggie suggested.

"I'll do you one better," Rick stated, staring at Maggie. "What do you think about us all gettin' together at the Hilltop so that we're all in one place? Us, and the Kingdom."

Maggie hesitated, briefly, and Michonne knew she was thinking of Hershel.

"We have the safest compound," admitted Jesus, glancing at Maggie. "We can see an attack from miles away."

"You want all the communities in one place," Maggie said to Rick.

Rick nodded. "It makes the most sense. Do you have room?"

"We'll make room," Maggie said. "We're not as small as we look."

"You understand that by doing this we're sendin' a red flag to the Saviors that we're gonna fight," muttered Daryl.

"Yah," Rick stated. "We need to vote on it. Is this what we're gonna do? Because if it's agreed on we have to go to our communities and let them know."

"We're in," Carl said firmly.

Rick looked at his son. "You don't get to speak for everyone. We'll go around." Rick made his rounds, everyone answering in the affirmative, that yes, they should move the communities to one location. Ezekiel hesitated, looking around, but finally agreed. He went all the way around until his eyes rested on Michonne. "Michonne?"

She was still cleaning her sword, and didn't immediately address Rick. The room grew silent as they waited for her to respond.

"I'm not like most Black people from this country. Unlike them, I know my roots." Michonne finally looked up at everyone. "Both of my parents were from Zimbabwe, so I always knew which country in Africa I came from. I always knew about my heritage. Every summer my parents would fly me to grandparents so I could learn about my history. They were adamant about me learning where I was from.

"In Africa you work for everything. Nothing is handed to you. I knew how to knit Kinte cloth before I could even pronounce it." Michonne continued to clean off the remaining specks of blood.

"When I was about six… I remember asking my grandmother why I lived all the way in Atlanta, and she lived here, in Zimbabwe. At the time I was only a child, I didn't know the magnitude of my question. And my grandmother… probably not even considering my age, told me that years ago, white men had come to our country and taken my ancestors, forced them on boats, stripped our people from their families, and forced us to work for them in America. We lost our culture, our names, our status. White men stole us, my grandmother said.

"For the longest time, I was afraid of white people, especially white men. I came back home terrified. My parents couldn't understand it. I loved school, but lately I just shut down. Finally my mother came to me, and told me to tell her what was wrong – why I hated going to school, why I never wanted to leave the house, why I never wanted _them_ to leave the house. So finally, after several weeks, I told my mother what my grandmother told me: that white men would try and take me from them and make me work for them.

"My mother immediately understood, and explained to me that that had happened a long time ago, that no man could own another man anymore. It was against the law. My mother told me if any man ever tried to own me, that I had the right to defend myself by any means necessary."

Michonne paused, seeing one final speck of blood and wiping it away. She looked over her sword, noting that it was sparkling.

"Slavery ended hundreds of years ago. My ancestors did not swing from trees and give their lives so that I would be brought back into slavery." Michonne stood up, looking at everyone, her voice firm, her eyes fierce. "Negan does _not_ get to own me. If he wants to fight, he better prepare for an all out war. Because I will _not_ go quietly into that good night." With those words Michonne put her sword into her case and started walking away. "We fight. We fight til the death. And if that means we have to be in one place, then so be it."

And with those words, Michonne was gone.

The rest of the group stayed silent, all of them staring at the door that Michonne had just walked out of.

"I am so in love with her right now," Ezekiel said.

Rick glanced at him, a smirk on his face. "That makes two of us."

"She'd have made a great Queen of the Kingdom."

Rick snorted. "Please. You can't limit Michonne to one community. She's the Queen of the Apocalypse."

Rick sent the rest of the group a nod and headed out to follow Michonne.

* * *

A/N: I always thought the line "All out War" should go to Michonne. I realize her monologue will never happen on the show but that's the whole point of fan fic. I felt like the request for this prompt was to showcase people respecting Michonne, and I thought it would be nice to get inside of her head a little. This background information mainly stems from Danai LOL


	62. His and Hers

A/N: I LOVE that so many of you loved The Queen of the Apocalypse. To be 100% honest I wasn't sure how it'd be perceived: I wasn't sure if a lot of people caught on the fact that Negan's way of thinking was a very master vs. slave mentality. I was worried that the one-shot wouldn't be taken seriously or would have shown Michonne as OOC. I will not lie and say that even though the show doesn't portray race, I still very much see it, and I wanted to know how people like Michonne or Sasha would have viewed Negan. Originally I wasn't even going to write Michonne's monologue, it was going to stay in my head, where it had been for several months. Alas, I decided to take the risk and write it, well aware that I might get people who didn't like it. I am relived you all did. Thanks for all the feedback, this was one of the most well-received chapters so far. Yall are amazing.

ON ANOTHER NOTE: MORE PROMPTS WOULD BE GREAT! I'm not going to lie: my Hayffie feels are kicking back in. Before I was writing Richonne I was writing Hayffie, and my desire to give up Richonne and go back to Hayffie has been in my mind. The only thing that would stop it are interesting prompts. Thanks. =]

* * *

 _Another fic about Rick taking off his wedding ring. Set sometime after Carl was shot and him going home._

 **HIS AND HERS**

 **Rated T**

Rick walked into the house, noting it was quiet, but it didn't feel empty. He looked around, taking it all in like he would have if was still a cop: Michonne's jacket by the door, the scent of dinner in the air, a few dishes in the sink. Nodding Rick made his way upstairs.

He saw the light on in the last room and made his way down the hall. He could hear a hushed voice and followed the sound, his steps light, his ears open as he peaked into Judith's room. He found Michonne and Judith, both on the floor, a blanket on the ground, pieces of paper everywhere.

"You're so talented, Judith," Michonne was saying. "I wonder if your mother was artistic. I'll have to ask Carl. Because your dad – and don't tell him I said this, because I'll deny it. This will be our little secret, just like me really eating Morgan's last peanut butter bar – but your dad can't even draw stick figures." Judith laughed as if he she could understand, and Michonne chimed in.

God, he loved hearing her laugh.

He frowned as he realized he wasn't sure if he meant Michonne or Judith.

"But me? I love the arts. I'll teach you all about everyone from Picasso to Kara Walker. I'll teach you how paint colors can make or break a painting, and how to appreciate the beauty in everything in a world full of ugly."

Judith made a sound that sounded suspiciously like "good", and Rick smiled again.

"Maybe she'll learn to appreciate my stick figures," said Rick, his eyes twinkling, as he stepped into the bedroom. Michonne laughed and he realized that it was Michonne's laugh that he loved to hear. He stared at her, momentarily transfixed, and it hit him then, for the first time, that she did that to him a lot.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Michonne stated. She started standing up and picking everything up off the floor, saving Judith for last. "We were just finishing up here."

"Don't let me interrupt."

Michonne shook her head. "I hadn't realized it was so late. Time stopped, I guess. She was fussy – she's starting to teethe, I think – and I knew how art always calmed me down, so I tried with her." She sat Judith in her crib and faced Rick.

"Lori wasn't artistic," he told her. And neither was Shane, but he kept that thought to himself. "Maybe you're rubbing off on her. It wouldn't be a bad thing. She needs you, just like Carl still does, just like Carl always will." Michonne stared at Rick silently for several moments before finally nodding. "I'll let you finish up with Judith. I just wanted to let you know I was home. I'm gonna go wash the day off."

"And Daryl?"

"Havin' dinner with Aaron and Eric again. I think he likes them better than me now."

Michonne laughed, shaking her head. "Did you see dinner? It's in the oven."

"Yah, thanks." He turned to leave, and for some reason he had to convince himself not to look back.

…

Rick looked around and finally found Michonne at the gate, helping to rebuild and protect the residents of Alexandria from any walkers that might be attracted to all the noise. He ran up to her, calling her name, and he approached her just as she turned around.

"What is it?" asked Michonne, concern flooding her eyes. Rick wouldn't come to her breathless if it wasn't important.

"Denise said Carl can come home tomorrow," Rick exclaimed.

Michonne gasped, and then her arms were around him. "Oh my God," she whispered. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God." Rick blinked several times before slowly wrapping his arms back around her. When he inhaled sharply Michonne stiffened slightly and then back away. "Sorry."

Rick looked at her. "Why? Seemed like a pretty natural reaction to me."

Michonne stayed silent as Deanna's words echoed in the back of her mind: " _What do you want for_ you _?_ " She pushed that thought away. Now wasn't the time or the place for that.

"He's gonna be okay," she finally stated.

Rick nodded. "We all are."

He left then, but her hug stayed with him for the rest of the day.

…

Rick walked down the stairs from his nap. He hadn't realized how exhausted he was from worrying about Carl. Once Carl was released Michonne had insisted that Rick get some rest, so he'd taken her up on that offer. Once he reached the bottom of the stairs he stopped in his tracks.

He found Michonne, Carl, and Judith, all asleep on the couch. Carl's feet were resting on Michonne's lap, his head resting on one end of the couch. Judith was against Michonne's chest, sitting on Carl's feet, Michonne's arms around her. Michonne was laying back, her feet propped up on the table.

Rick stared at all of them in awe. He had his family back. His _family_. The people he would do anything for, no questions asked. He was a better man because of them. All of them.

Especially Michonne.

He wouldn't anything without her.

He wouldn't be _alive_ without her.

He walked over to the couch and and brushed Carl's hair out of his face. Then he walked over to Judith and bent down and kissed Judith, causing Michonne to stir.

"Didn't mean to wake you,' he said softly.

She smiled. "Didn't mean to doze off." She looked up at him.

"I'm jus' gonna check in on everyone," answered Rick without Michonne even having to ask. "Will there be room for me on that couch when I get back?"

Michonne grinned softly. "There's always room for you, Rick." He stared at her, unsure why the words affected him so much. He nodded at her and then left.

Yet she never fully left his mind.

…

Later on that night Rick took off his wedding ring.

He wasn't imagining whatever was going on with him and Michonne. Something was changing between them. At first he thought it was him, that it was all in his head and mind, but he was wrong. He caught the lingering stares, the questioning looks, and he was convinced they were both trying to figure out the next step in their relationship.

It was always going to come to this.

Of course it was.

And if it did, she needed to know he was ready, that he was open to the idea. The only way to show her that was by taking off his ring.

He _knew_ her, and if there was any hesitation on her part, it was because of his ring.

It was a big step, but it seemed right – it _felt_ right – and this way the ball would be in her court.

He thought he should leave it up to her.

…

Michonne knocked on Rick's open door, and he smiled at her.

"Hey," she said softly. "I'm out of toothpaste. Do you have any?"

Rick nodded. "Sure. It's in the bathroom." Michonne headed towards bathroom to grab the toothpaste, and Rick followed her to the door. "Can you grab my watch?"

Michonne nodded, noting the watch and the ring on the sink. "Just the watch?"

He smiled softly. "Just the watch." Michonne stared at him for a few moments before turning away and delicately grabbing the watch. She could feel her fingers shaking as she grasped it. She turned and handed him his watch and Rick put it on, snapping it shut. "I'll see you later."

Michonne could only nod.

She grabbed the toothpaste, her eyes on Rick's ring, and then finally made her way back to her own room.

When she returned the toothpaste, she placed a single glass bowl on top of Rick's dresser that she'd gotten from her own room. After putting his toothpaste back, she grabbed his wedding ring and placed it in the bowl.

Hopefully it'd collect dust there.

…

Rick sat on the couch, his fingers intertwined with Michonne's. So he would have to make the first move. He was okay with that.

They'd made a little bit of progress these past few weeks: he'd seen her eyes lingering on his ring finger, a question on her lips but caught in her throat.

He was patient, letting her figure out what it meant to her, how it affected her, how it affected _them_. They had their fair share of moments, but not what he wanted, and now here they were, on the couch, the pack of mints he'd surprised her with forgotten about.

He leaned in.

By the time he pulled away, a giddy grin on his face, he could only think of one thing: hers.

He was hers, and she was his.

* * *

A/N: Wrote this because to me Rick seemed awfully sure on that couch, while Michonne looked like she was still putting it together LOL. Rick knew as soon as their hands touched.


	63. Losing Andre

MORE PROMPTS PLEASE! =]

* * *

 _Prompt—"You know I keep imagining a scene where they're just laying in bed about to make love and he starts kissing her , then he moves down her body and kisses her stomach, lifts her shirt (she's only wearing his Tshirt and an underwear), kisses her to her bikini line, stops, gently traces a stretch mark on her stomach and looks up at her and says "I keep waiting for you to tell me about your baby".. She looks at him with that vulnerable look she only has with him and replies "what makes you think I had a baby?" his response, "there is not one single inch of your body I don't know, haven't loved, I know you had a baby. Please tell me what happened." She will look down at him with tears in her eyes and open up with "his name was Andre..." –CaribbeanQueen11 from TiTTD._

 _Changed it a little bit to fit how I thought this would go, but kept it mostly the same. This prompt is under the assumption that Rick doesn't know about Andre. Those of you who have followed my stories know my theories on this: Rick knows. But it's nice to play around with other scenarios._

 _For the sake of this story, let's say this takes place sometime before the Lucille situation._

 **LOSING ANDRE**

 **Rated T+ for almost smut LOL**

Rick heard the shower turn off in his bedroom. He sat Judith down in her crib after giving her a gentle kiss.

"Goodnight, Sweetheart," Rick whispered, and then he walked out of the room, turning the light off and closing the door behind him. He checked in on Carl to find him sleeping peacefully, his gun on his chest. Rick closed the door and made his way to his own room in time to find Michonne exiting the bathroom, one of his shirts over her body.

He decided it was the most erotic thing ever to see Michonne in one of his shirts. She had taken to wearing them as of lately, which he found amusing since he usually slipped it off of her within seconds of her getting in bed.

"Judith asleep?" asked Michonne, playing in her hair to straighten her 'locks that had messed up inside of her towel.

"Yah," Rick replied, eyeing her. "So's Carl." He closed the door and started undressing so that he could get ready for bed. He slipped his shirt over his head, realizing his own hair was still somewhat damp from his own shower.

Michonne grabbed the baby monitor and looked at Judith, smiling softly. Then she pulled the covers back and slipped into bed. "Last one in the bed turns out the light," grinned Michonne. Rick mock glared at her and Michonne laughed as he walked over to the lantern and turned it off. Then he climbed into bed, practically on top of her.

"I think that kind of work deserves a reward," he mumbled, his lips automatically seeking hers. She kissed him, softly, and then the kiss quickly deepened. He wasn't sure how she always had the ability to make him want her as badly as he did, but it never took long for things to escalate between them.

Maybe because they had spent so many months ignoring what was clearly there.

He removed the covers and lifted up her – his – shirt and slid it off of her. The brightness of the moonlight highlighted her frame, making her body glow even in the darkness. He kissed her for several moments, until she moaned, and then he started planting kisses down her body, starting from her neck to her breasts, to the valley in between her breasts, and down to her stomach.

He noticed some of the stretchmarks on her hips and bikini line.

"I keep waitin' on you to tell me about him or her," Rick said softly.

Michonne gripped his hair. "Who?" she asked, slightly breathless.

"Your child." Michonne stiffened, almost violently, and Rick traced the outline of some of her stretchmarks with the tip of her fingers. He looked up at her to find her looking at him. He searched her eyes for several moments before speaking again. "I'm sorry. I don't know what made me talk about it. There ain't one single inch of your body I don't know, or love. I know you had a baby."

Michonne shifted and Rick took that as his cue. He slid up and lied next to her, turning towards her so that he was lying on her side and could see her.

Michonne didn't immediately answer, but Rick wasn't worried. He knew it was okay to ask her. He _knew_ her. Sometimes she needed a little push. He waited her out, until she was ready to speak.

"His name was Andre," she said softly. "He was three, and my whole world. I loved him more than life itself, but I failed him."

Rick reached out and touched her cheek. "I highly doubt that," said Rick quietly. She stared at him. "I see you with Carl and Judith. Hell, with me. You're a protector."

"Well he's not here, and he should be. I trusted him with someone I shouldn't have, and it cost him his life." Her voice was cold, and he realized she still blamed herself somewhat. She probably always would.

"And Andre's father?" The question was gentle, and Michonne turned sideways so that she was face-to-face with them.

"Mike was nothing like the man – or father – you are."

"Mike," repeated Rick, and his hand traveled down to her necklace, tracing the outline of the cursive _M_ at the end of the chain.

Michonne reached up, her fingers brushing his before she gripped the necklace. "This doesn't stand for Mike," she assured him quietly, and he found himself slowly exhaling. He swallowed down the little bit of possessiveness that had worked its way through his veins. "It was a gift from my parents that I always held on to."

Rick nodded. "Okay."

"Mike and I were in love once… but it didn't last forever. Not like my parents. Not like the characters in my storybooks. I don't know what happened, but we started to drift apart after the Turn, so by the time everything happened…." Michonne's voice trailed away. "Andre was with Mike when he was bitten. I was out on a run, and when I had gotten back, our camp had been overrun. He was too high to protect our child, let alone himself. I made him a walker…. I kept him alive as punishment for both of us, had him chained… he deserved it, and so did I."

Rick felt something click in his mind. "That's what Merle was talkin' about all those months ago." Michonne nodded. Rick looked at her and then climbed on top of her. "I'm gonna make a baby with you," he told her. Michonne just blinked at him. "Not today. Not tomorrow. Once we finish off this Negan thing and he's all taken care of… maybe once we've expanded these walls like Deanna wanted. But one day, you're gonna have my baby."

She wanted to think he was crazy, but he gave himself to her like a man possessed, and she took it, she took every thrust, every inch, every kiss, every drop. She wanted him, she wanted it _all_.

By the time they were finished Michonne thought she'd be okay if that included a baby.

She wouldn't lose that child – or Carl and Judith – like she had lost Andre.

Not that she had lost him, lost him. He would always be with her, she vowed, as long as she was breathing.

And while she was living, she might as well allow herself to gain another.


	64. Right Here

_Takes place after SOMEONE is Lucille'd. The victim is not mentioned because, oh you know, THERE WAS A CLIFFHANGER. So there's no spoiler here._

 **RIGHT HERE**

 **Rated T**

Michonne walked into the room and Rick didn't even look up. It was proof enough that her suspicions were correct. She made her way up to him, standing next to him and looking out the same window that he was.

He shifted slightly, almost distancing himself from her, but not quite. She looked him over, her eyes taking in everything: the grief on his face, the blankness in his eyes, the tension his body.

"Rick." Her voice was soft, like it always was, but it didn't have the same effect on him that it used to. Instead of turning towards her he just continued to stare out the window, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. " _Rick_."

She saw him jump back to the present and out of his thoughts. He stared at her, but he was still closed off from her. "Hey."

She looked at him for a long time, her eyes searching his. "Rick… you and I haven't always been on the same page. We've definitely had our share of differences in the past. But you've never shut me out before. I need you to talk to me. Tell me what's _wrong_." Besides the obvious.

She couldn't read him. For as long as she could, she had been able to read him. But not now. Not lately.

"What is it? What are you thinking about?"

He stared at her, his dark blue eyes staring into her dark brown orbs, but she knew he wasn't really seeing her. She was worried that he wouldn't answer, that he would either go back to staring out the window, or even worse, just walk away from her.

And then he spoke.

"I'm thinkin' about Lori."

Her stomach dropped.

"I'm thinkin' about how at the very end there… everything just all went to shit, all at once." His voice was soft, his eyes lost, almost as if he were in another place and another time. "One minute she was there, the next minute she wasn't. We hadn't been happy for a long time by then. Before the Turn she said I never communicated. Afterwards… It was me, I know it was, because she was tryin'. I could _see_ her tryin', and I had told myself that I could forgive, that we could move on, but…." Rick looked down and shook his head. "By the time she was ready to have Judith, I couldn't even look into her eyes. I could barely even touch her." He looked back up at her. "I loved her, Michonne. I loved Lori. But not I love you."

Michonne stood stock-still as she stared at him, and watched as he pulled out two of her 'locks from his pocket.

"These were glued to a walker when we were on our way to Hilltop. The Saviors tried to stop us so there was a gang of walkers, all chained together. One had on Daryl's vest, another had your hair glued to it."

Michonne closed her eyes as she remembered Dwight hacking off some of her 'locks.

Rick paused for a moment, staring at her hair. "Lori used to hate when I used to leave. She used to fight me tooth and nail about it.… I couldn't understand why she was so selfish, and she couldn't understand my need to save everyone. Apart of me gets it now… with you. When you were out there… when I got back to Alexandria and realized you weren't back yet…. The fear was paralyzing. Even back when you used to search for the Governor I would worry. But it's worse now. Seeing your hair glued to that walker put it into perspective."

"Look," started Michonne, but Rick cut her off.

"I've just been thinkin' about how devastated I was when Lori died, and I wasn't even _happy_ with her. When I saw that walker… somethin' in me broke. I was never myself again after that moment. I was terrified. I knew that either they had you, or you were dead, and I wasn't prepared for either. I didn't know _how_ to prepare for either."

"Rick—"

"I've never been so afraid before. I've lost people. _We've_ lost people. But you were always invincible. Even now you're relatively untouched. But for a while there, I didn't know what happened to you. And I'd never even told you I loved you. And you deserved to know that." He looked down at her hair again. "I haven't been that scared in a long time, Michonne. I'd forgotten what that kind of fear feels like, what it means to love someone more than yourself…. "

Michonne took a deep breath and gently took her hair from his hands. "It was just a tactic to scare you. I am right _here_ , Rick. I'm right here." She reached up and gently palmed his cheek. "What happens next… where we go from here… we'll deal with it. We don't have a choice. We'll end this, by any means necessary."

"I can't lose anybody else, Michonne."

She cupped his face. "I'm not going _anywhere_. But if I do… know I went trying to save you, Carl, and Judith."

He gripped her hands. "I can't lose anyone else," he repeated.

"I love you, Rick Grimes," she whispered.

He looked at her and then nodded, pulling her close. "I'm gonna go check in on Carl."

He kissed her, more for him than her, and then left. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, glancing at the hair in her hand. Balling up her fists she vowed that Negan would pay.

He would pay for ever making Rick think she'd ever be anywhere other than right here with him.

* * *

A/N: One of my favorites EVER, and just one way I see Rick telling Michonne he loved her for the first time.


	65. King County High

_Just an A/U with a teenage Richonne. Don't ask me why I wrote this, or why I wrote it like this LOL._

 **KING COUNTY HIGH**

 **Rated T for a wee bit of bad language**

Rick kicked the ball a little harder than necessary – maybe he was still feeling frustrated, it wouldn't surprise him – and he jogged after it, heading to the fence where it had stopped.

He could hear his friends laughing – no one really like going that far off the playground, it was nothing but dirt and trees – but he had kicked the ball, so he had to go get it.

He had just bent down to grab the ball when he heard a car door slam.

That was weird. It was a small town, in the middle of the day. Most people were at work, home, or school already. Occasionally people would run to the grocery store, but that wasn't close to the school.

Rick looked up and was surprised to see a girl get out of the car.

He'd never, ever seen anything like her.

She had long, braided hair, smooth, dark skin, and the darkest shade of brown eyes imaginable. He looked her over: she was a thing of beauty, and even in her black jeans he could see – and appreciate – her curves. She wore brown boots and a white sweater, and had a kente-cloth backpack hanging from her right shoulder.

For the longest time they just looked at each other, Rick holding the ball, and the mysterious girl, clutching her backpack. Neither of them said a word to each other, nor did they make an effort to wave. She did move towards him, walking up to the fence, and the two of them continued to just stare at each other.

He had no idea how much time had passed. It could have been seconds, it could have been years.

The sound of another car door slamming almost knocked him back to reality. He _heard_ it, but it didn't make him take his eyes off of her. It wasn't until a man and a woman touched the girl on the shoulder that she jerked, blinking rapidly at their presence, as if she had just remembered their existence.

With one final look at him, the girl left.

…

Rick listened to his sophomore English teacher, attempting to pay attention, but everything she was saying was going in one ear and out the other.

He just had too much on his brain.

Fortunately, at that moment their classroom door opened. Rick looked up, like the other students, to see their principle, Ms. Peleteir, walk through the door.

She wasn't alone. The girl from earlier walked through the door, and Rick felt his heart relocate to his stomach.

"Ah, yes," Mrs. Monroe said. "Thank you, Principal Peleteir." Rick stared at the scene before him. "Class, we have a new student. This is Michonne Rogers."

 _Michonne_.

His stomach swooped when she locked eyes with him. He froze, unaware of what to say or do. She gave him a soft smile, almost shy.

He returned it.

…

Mrs. Monroe sat Michonne next to him, and he wasn't sure why that made him so excited. He tried to keep his cool, though, offering her another smile that she easily returned.

When it was time to pick partners for their afternoon project, Rick was going to ask her – he _was_ – but he quickly realized he wasn't the only one who'd noticed her.

"Rick," said a soft voice.

He turned around and came face to face with Lori. "Shane's over there," pointed Rick coldly, and then he was turning back around to see if Michonne wanted to work together, but Morgan beat him to the punch.

"Hey," another voice said, and Rick looked up. "I don't have a partner."

She smiled shyly at him and he returned the smile. "Hey, Jessie. That's fine. We can work together."

…

Rick closed his locker and smiled at the body that appeared next to him.

"Glad to see you," he told her.

Michonne smiled at him. "Glad to see you too. How was your summer?"

Rick shrugged. "Pretty uneventful. Nothing like yours. How was camp?"

" _Amazing_ ," Michonne said. "I bought you something." Rick arched his eyebrow, noticing for the first time that she had her hands behind her back. She presented a sculpture and Rick blinked at it.

" _What_ is _that_?" asked Rick.

"It's a cat. I won first place, and normally first place winners get their piece on display at the camp, but I couldn't leave it. It's just too damn gorgeous."

Rick smirked and grabbed the colorful cat sculpture. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Maybe it'll brighten up your locker."

"He doesn't need anything except me for that." Both Michonne and Rick turned around.

"Hey, Jessie," Michonne said. Her eyes cut to Rick. "I'll see you later."

Rick nodded, watching Michonne walk away.

…

Michonne, Daryl, and Rick all walked off campus.

"Fuckin' junior year, man," Daryl said. "We get our license this year and I swear I'm gettin' my bike. Plus, we get a free period, _and_ we get off campus lunch."

"Not to mention," said Michonne… "Junior Prom." Rick glanced at Michonne but before he could say anything someone approached them.

"Hey, Michonne."

"Hey, Tyreese," smiled Michonne. "Football team gonna be any good this year?"

"It's my senior year. We don't have a choice."

"It'd be nice to go to a home game and actually win," commented Rick.

"I'm quarterback this year. We'll win," Tyreese said. He gave Michonne a smile. "See you around."

Rick watched him go. "He is so into you," he told Michonne.

Michonne seemed surprised. "I don't know why. I'm still with Morgan. Everyone knows that."

Rick kept quiet.

…

Rick had Jessie on his arm, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of Michonne.

He had never seen her look so beautiful.

Junior Prom was turning out to be a blast, but he was distracted. It was something about seeing Michonne dressed in canary yellow dress, highlighting the golden undertones in her dark skin, that made Rick really _see_ Michonne.

She'd always been attractive. A man would have to be blind not to notice her natural beauty. But prom night… prom night showed him a side of Michonne he'd never really noticed before.

Like the fact that she was the most beautiful girl in the room, and it was so effortless. Her and Morgan had broken up, though they remained friends, and Michonne had shown up to Junior Prom with her girlfriends Andrea and Sasha, who looked beautiful in their own right, but didn't hold a candle to Michonne.

"Rick. _Rick_." He blinked to find Jessie in his line of sight. "Hey, I'm gonna run to the bathroom right quick." Rick nodded, not even bothering to watch her walk away before his deep blue eyes were back on Michonne. She was dancing with Andrea and Sasha, all of them laughing.

"Jus' go ask her to dance, man." Rick turned to find Daryl watching him.

"Who?" His best friend just blinked at him. "I can't. It's _Michonne_. She's my best friend."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "It's high school. It's _supposed_ to be a damn romance novel."

"She doesn't see me that way. Hell, I didn't see her this way 'til now."

"You sure 'bout that?" Rick just blinked at Daryl. "Come on. You two are perfect for each other."

"People said the same thing about me and Lori." Rick glanced at Lori and Shane, still together a year later.

"Lori was an idiot, and you can do way better."

Rick looked at Daryl. "Since when are you an expert?"

Daryl shrugged. "I ain't. But you and Michonne… that could last forever."

…

The first day of senior year proved to be a good one. The law of averages seemed to recognize and realize that the Universe owed him one: he had most of his classes, including homeroom, with Michonne and Daryl, he met a new friend named Jesus, and he'd purchased his first truck this summer.

Life was _good_.

"You seem to be in a good mood," Daryl commented while they were in line for lunch.

"I guess I'm jus' excited school's back in. It's our last year."

Daryl just stared at him. "So… you're excited for school." His voice held disbelief.

"Yah. What else?"

"I don't know. I thought it had to do with Michonne bein' back. You were a grouch all summer."

Rick rolled his eyes. "I was not."

"You were perfectly fine the first few weeks of summer, then Michonne left for Paris and you were miserable. Michonne gets back yesterday and suddenly you're all smiles."

"Jessie and I broke up this summer, remember?"

"You didn't mention Jessie once. Michonne? All summer, man."

"What about me?" Rick and Daryl turned to find Michonne standing behind them.

"Nothin'. Rick was jus' tellin' me how much he missed you while you were in Paris."

Rick could feel himself blushing as Michonne's dark eyes rested on his. "Is that right? Couldn't have fooled me."

"'Course I missed you," mumbled Rick. "You were gone all summer."

"Well I'm back now."

"You gon' stay awhile?"

Michonne nodded. "Awhile. At least until I get a few acceptance letters." Rick clenched his jaw and remained silent. Everyone knew his fate: he'd go through a few years of training before enrolling into the academy. "There's more out there, y'know," Michonne said, seemingly reading his mind.

"For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a cop."

"And no one's saying you can't. All I'm saying is you could go to college, study criminal justice, get a degree under your belt, and be a higher ranking official. You could minor or major in psychology or sociology and be a profiler. Work for the FBI."

Rick blinked at her.

"Can you really see yourself staying in King's County your entire life?"

"Where are _you_ applying?" asked Rick.

Michonne shrugged. "Everywhere. NYU. Yale. Stanford. Howard. Harvard."

"Not everyone's been a straight A student since birth," Rick said with a roll of his eyes. "You applyin' anywhere local?"

"Spelman. And all you have to do is see if you meet the requirements. Don't settle yourself short. Apply to a few schools outside of Georgia and see what happens. It could change your life."

…

Rick threw another rock at Michonne's window, trying his hardest to get her to wake up. He'd been to her house enough times to know which room was hers. There was hardly anything he didn't know about her at this rate. Finding out how hard she slept was new. Then again, it was the middle of the night.

Sighing, and resisting the urge to just shout out her name, Rick picked up another rock and tossed it to the window.

 _Finally_ the lamp to her room turned on, and a few seconds later, her curtains flew open and Michonne's head poked out the window. Even in the dark of night he could see her surprise. She opened her window, poking her head out.

" _Rick_ ," she whispered. " _What_ are you doing?"

"Can you come down? I got somethin' to tell you."

"And it couldn't wait until morning?"

"Obviously not."

Michonne stared at him, nodded once, and then disappeared. A few moments later Michonne was outside, dressed in boots, leggings, and an oversized black hoodie.

"What's up?" asked Michonne, shivering slightly in the cool February air. Rick didn't respond. He just produced an envelope and waved it in her face. "What's that?"

"Somethin' waitin' for me when I got home. I jus' left Daryl's–"

"This late?" It was pushing midnight.

"You know we're workin' on that science project, and his parents refuse to let him ride his motorcycle at night, so we had to wait for them to return from the movies before they could drop me back off – the perks of only bein' seventeen and unable to drive without a licensed driver—"

"Yet you drove here, very much alone…."

"Well, this was an emergency." He paused for dramatic effect. "This is a letter from NYU."

Michonne gasped. "Oh my God! What does it say?"

Rick shrugged. "I don't know, I haven't opened it yet."

"You didn't tell me you applied!"

"I didn't tell anyone. In fact, when I got home, it was on my bed with a sticky note attached to it that said, 'Guess we got some things to talk about tomorrow.'" Rick rolled his eyes and Michonne arched an eyebrow. "If I don't get in, no one had to know…. But… I couldn't do this without you. So… would you do me the honors?"

"Rick… are you sure?"

"I can't open it. I tried for ten minutes before I came here."

Michonne snatched the letter. "I was only gonna ask once." And within a few seconds, the letter was torn open.

Michonne squealed, and then she was in his arms. He blinked for several seconds before finally wrapping his arms around her.

"Congratulations, Mr. Grimes."

He didn't immediately answer. He just slowly placed her down, staring at her with quiet fascination.

When he leaned in to kiss her the first thing he wondered was what the hell had taken him so long to do this. It felt like magic, like he was flying, like he could run a marathon, like he could do a thousand back flips.

And then the world stopped when she kissed him back.

…

"We did it," grinned Michonne. "We graduated today."

"Why are you so in awe? You were our class valedictorian." Rick grinned at her as she laughed.

"You ready for the party of the century?"

"I'm goin' with you, so yah." Michonne laughed again and hopped on Rick's back, wrapping her arms around his neck. At that moment Lori walked up to them.

"Hey, Rick."

"Hey, Lori," smiled Rick.

"It's been a while."

Rick nodded. "Yah, it has." Two years, in fact, since she'd cheated on him with his best friend. He found that he didn't even care anymore, though. That had been ages ago. No one cared anymore.

"Congrats on graduating."

"You too," Rick said. He wouldn't ask her where Shane was. He knew they had broken up sometime before prom. "Take care of yourself, Lori."

She gave him a sad smile. "You too, Rick."

And with that, she was gone. Rick spotted Shane a few minutes later, and the two locked eyes. Rick gave him a soft nod, and Shane nodded back.

They were the past.

Michonne was the future.

…

Rick grunted and put the box down, breathing hard.

"That the last box?" asked Daryl, and Rick nodded. "I can't believe you're goin' off to college."

"I can't believe you're not," Rick said.

Daryl shrugged. "My dad left me his shop. I'm good bein' a small town boy. And if it ever changes… I know you got a dorm couch I can crash on."

"Atlanta's not even a two-hour flight from New York. Much quicker than a thirteen-hour drive."

Daryl snorted. "Hell yah. I'm never doin' that again, not even for you." Rick chuckled, and Daryl chimed in for a few moments before silence crept up. "You know I ain't good at goodbyes. I'll see you when you come home for Thanksgivin'." Rick nodded. "You talk to Michonne?"

Rick stiffened. "No."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "I can't believe you broke up with her."

"I didn't break up with her. She got into her dream schools. I wasn't gonna hold her back."

"She'd have gone anywhere for you."

"Yah, she woulda. That's kinda my point. She'd be settlin' for NYU."

Daryl shook his head. "You're an idiot. A woman like that… you don't get that twice."

"I _know_." Rick scowled and turned away from Daryl. He had been second guessing himself for the past two weeks about if he should have gone a different route with Michonne. His last few months of his senior seemed like something out of a fairytale, but somewhere, after graduation, he realized that Michonne had half a dozen schools to choose from, and the fact that she was willing to throw them all away and go to NYU just to be with him was a hard pill to swallow.

She was better than that, better than _him_.

A few moments of silence, and then there was a soft knock on the door. Rick and Daryl glanced at each other. Rick definitely wasn't expecting anyone, especially since he had his own room.

Daryl moved to the door and opened it slightly. After a few seconds Daryl chuckled and turned around, staring at Rick.

"What?" asked Rick. "Who is it?"

Daryl just continued to laugh. "It's for you," was all he said.

Rick stared at Daryl quizzically, and once he realized he wouldn't get any more out of Daryl, he made his way to the door, opening it.

Michonne stood in front him.

"Hi," she said. "My name's Michonne Rogers, and I'm your junior RA. I'm in room 1B if you have any questions. Welcome to NYU."

He just blinked at her.

"Are you real?" he finally breathed.

She smiled. "Kiss me and see."

He didn't need telling twice. He pulled her to him, his lips on hers, and she wrapped her arms around him, deepening the kiss.

"That's my cue, man," said Daryl. "It's like a damn romance novel in here. I'll see you two love birds later."

Not even sure that Rick and Michonne heard him, Daryl made his way out of the dorm and to his car.

It was the start of the next world, and he was happy to be taking the journey with them.

* * *

A/N: This turned out NOTHING like I thought it would… hope you all enjoyed it anyway.


	66. The Art Gallery

A/N: The "Sherriff and the Counselor" A/U (Chatper 44) has produced a few other one-shots. One is for Halloween, so it'll be posted around then, and another is for CHRISTmas, so you'll have to wait for that one.

I SO would love some Halloween prompts. Most likely they will be A/U, but if you think of something strictly canon I am here for it.

You guys REALLY seemed to like the High School Richonne A/U. I did another one shot (kind of a missing piece) to that story.

Lastly: ENJOI88, you were a Guest so I couldn't respond directly but your review REALLY meant a lot to me. Thank you so much for the kind words, I truly needed them.

To everyone else who's been reviewing, I love yall. The support for this story has been amazing and S7 hasn't even started yet. I'm sure the prompts will be coming in.

* * *

 _ANOTHER Richonne A/U. What can I say? I'm going through a phase. A/U is just easier to write right now. Not related to any other A/U._

 **THE ART GALLERY**

 **Rated T**

"Dad, come _on_ ," Carl Grimes called once again. "We're gonna be late."

"Comin'," called Rick, and for the umpteenth time, he looked over himself in the mirror. He straightened his bowtie one last time, grimaced, and then proceeded down the stairs of his two-bedroom apartment and headed to the front door, where his son was standing, looking more handsome than ever in a black suit and tie. "You clean up pretty nice."

Carl rolled his eyes. "Yah. You too. Can we go now?"

Rick arched an eyebrow. "My you certainly seem to be in a rush, especially for someone who begged me not to go not two hours ago."

Carl shrugged much too casually. "Guess I changed my mind," he mumbled.

Rick grinned. "Funny. Is a certain girl by the name of Enid showin' up now?"

Carl scowled. "Have you been listening in on my phone calls?"

"Not on purpose. You're not exactly _quiet_ when you talk, Son."

"Dad, _please_ don't do anything to embarrass me."

Rick chuckled, grabbing his keys and motioning for Carl to step out. "I won't. Besides, I'm actually kinda interested in tonight's event."

"I _guess_ it's kinda cool. I still don't know why we had to put on an art show. I mean I like our art teacher and all, but… she's kinda extreme. I mean I don't mind the art show that much. It's kinda cool to have all the students display their work for their parents. But… to have to dress up?"

"Well that's normally what you do at an art gallery."

Carl shot his father a look. "How do _you_ know that?"

"What, jus' cus I'm a sheriff of a small town I can't know about art?" Carl just blinked at him. "I'll have you know I passed my high school art class with an A+, which is one up on your A-."

"Yah but that was years ago. You probably only had to draw things like hearts and squares and stick figures. Compared to that I'm in _Advanced Fine Arts_."

Rick arched an eyebrow as they reached the car. "You certainly get your smart mouth from your mother."

Carl laughed all the way to the school.

…

King's County High School was packed to capacity, and from the looks of things, everybody had gotten into the spirit. Rick could see that everyone had dressed up. Rick and Carl got out, waving to everyone they knew, and made their way to the auditorium.

It had been utterly transformed to look like a real art gallery: there were hundreds of paintings, each of them categorized by grade, all of them propped up on easel's. The lighting was dimmed, there was soft jazz music playing in the background, and there was a description next to each painting to explain what it was.

Despite all that, it didn't take him very long to spot her.

He'd seen her before, on the first day of school. He'd insisted on walking Carl to class, much to his son's embarrassment. " _I'm in high school now, dad._ " But he'd gone in anyway, giving his son a ten-minute head start. It was enough time for the bell to have rung and the hallway to be empty.

He had peaked in on Carl, careful to make sure that no one saw him, and he was just turning to leave when he saw her: thick dark brown 'locs, dark skin that radiated golden tones, a walk like he'd never seen before, and eyes so dark it'd be entirely too easy to get lost in them.

He'd frozen for a second, until she gave him a smile, and then his stomach did something a little funny – something it hadn't done in _years_ – and before he could place what was happening… she had walked around a corner and was gone.

That had been at the start of the school year. The school year was two weeks from being over now, and this was only his second time seeing her. He'd be lying if he didn't admit to himself that whenever he picked up or dropped off Carl to and from school that he'd catch a glimpse of her again, but he never did.

He had hoped he'd catch a glimpse of her tonight.

Tonight her hair was in a fancy up-do, to match the gorgeous outfit she was wearing. The black dress highlighted every natural curve. He'd never seen anyone look so stunning.

He felt his breath catch in his throat and he looked away before she caught him staring.

"Hey, Dad, come on. I'll introduce you to my teacher before I ultimately walk away and pretend like you don't exist."

Rick spared Carl a glance. "Thanks," he said sarcastically.

"There she is right there," pointed Carl, and Rick paused once he realized Carl was pointing to the very woman he was hoping to see.

" _That's_ Ms. M?" Rick asked, surprised.

"Yah. Come one, we better say hi quickly. She seems popular."

That was an understatement. The crowd around her was of both men and women. They seem to be drawn to her, the same way he was. He felt the familiar swoop in his stomach and told himself to get a grip.

They waited for a few minutes for the crowd to thin out, Rick telling himself to _calm down_ as he waited. When they finally met up with her, her dark brown eyes warmed considerably when she saw Carl.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Carl Grimes himself," the woman said, and Rick couldn't help but think she had a beautiful voice. Soft, gentle, but demanded attention.

"Hey, Ms. M. You look great."

She beamed. "And you clean up quite nicely yourself."

Carl smiled back at her. "This is my dad. Dad, this is my art teacher, Ms. M."

She finally rested her eyes on him, a warm smile on her face. He thought he saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes, but he wasn't one hundred percent sure, and before he could figure it out, she was speaking.

"Sherriff Grimes," she stated, holding out her hand.

"Please, call me Rick."

"Rick," she amended with a smile. She looked on the other side of him, her smile disappearing. "Is your mother here?" she asked Carl.

Carl stiffened slightly and Rick inhaled sharply. "Lori's on vacation with her boyfriend. She… couldn't make it."

Michonne stared at Carl for a few seconds, and then turned her attention back to Rick. "Well it's certainly nice to finally meet you properly."

Rick smile. "Trust me, the pleasure is all mine."

He flushed slightly. Was he flirting? He sounded like he was flirting. Not that he knew _how_ to flirt, per say, but it definitely sounded like he had been trying to flirt.

She seemed to take in stride, though. "The feeling is mutual, trust me. It's nice to have a real face to go with all the pictures."

"Does Carl draw me often?" Rick couldn't hide the surprise in his voice.

"Very much so." Rick glanced at Carl, who suddenly wouldn't meet his eye.

"Well that's good to know, figuring you're the teacher he talks about the most. I feel like I already know you."

"Hey, Dad," interrupted Carl. "I see some of my friends. I'll catch you later."

"Alright, Son," Rick said, nodding, and then turned his attention back to the woman in front of him. "So this is your event?"

"It is."

"How long have you been teaching?"

"This is my first year."

Rick raised his eyebrows. "This is a hell of a first year, Ms. M."

"Please, call me Michonne."

Rick's stomach did that funny thing again. "Tell me, Michonne, what made you think of havin' an art gallery to display the student's work?"

She shrugged casually. "I just wanted a way for the students to be able to display their work, and for parents to see how hard their children work. I also thought it'd be a great way for students to take pride in what they do. They should always try their hardest, and do their best, because they never know who's watching. Plus…" Michonne smiled sheepishly, "I always wanted to own my own art gallery." Rick laughed, and she stared at him for a moment, her eyes twinkling. "Would you like to see Carl's painting?"

"Of course," Rick said, and together they made their way through the other freshmen paintings, the scent of sunflowers hitting his nostrils head on. She smelled _good_. They ventured into the sophomore section, passed the junior section, and even made their way through the senior portion. They finally stopped when they reached three covered easels. "Where are we?"

"The winner's circle," stated Michonne softly. Rick whipped his head towards her and she gave him a soft smile. "He doesn't know. It was supposed to be a surprise. I won't tell you what he placed, but he made the top three. It wasn't about the artwork per say. More about the subject matter. It's why I was hoping Lori would make it, figuring he'd be winning a prize."

"Lori's not a bad mother," Rick said quietly. "She's… doin' the best she can."

"I'm sure," said Michonne. "I'm sure you'll tell her all about it."

"Or he will," Rick said without thinking.

She didn't respond to that, though, she just took the black cover off of the easel and Rick's breath caught in his throat. It was a picture of Rick and Carl, Rick in his uniform, his gun in his holster, his hands on his holster. Carl was dressed in a pair of jeans and a grey shirt, his father's Sherriff's hat on his head.

"Speechless?" Michonne asked, a smile in her voice.

Rick swallowed, more touched than he thought possible. "Absolutely. I'm not that cultured when it comes to art, but… I know a good picture when I see one."

He glanced at her, noting that she was staring at him pretty intently. "Can I be honest with you?" He stared into her dark brown eyes and nodded. "I think this class has been really good for Carl. Art is therapeutic. I had some… concerns at first."

Rick faced Michonne. "About?"

"His relationship with you, and his mother. I think the divorce made him feel alienated. He was angry, and he felt very alone."

"It was touch and go there for a few months. We couldn't see eye to eye about anything. I think he blamed me for the divorce…." And that was a hard pill to swallow, particularly since Lori was the one who was having an affair with his best friend….

"Well art helped. At least… mostly. He doesn't draw his mother very often, but like this picture shows, he respects you, and admires you."

Rick blinked at the picture. "How long ago did he draw this?"

"Two weeks ago."

"It's been better these past few months. I noticed a real change during Christmas…. I thought he was jus' bein' nice 'cause he wanted his gifts, but… his attitude changed. I mean he's still a teenager… and he still drives me crazy… but it's better."

"And his relationship with his mom?" Rick didn't immediately answer. "I'm sorry. I'm prying. This is none of my business. I guess I'm just curious, due to the pictures he draws in class."

"I'm sure you already have the answer to your question." He stared at her. "You seem pretty intuitive."

"I actually minored in art. I went to school for psychology."

"That doesn't surprise me either." And it didn't.

She shot him an amused glance. "I remember you, you know." Rick started. "On the first day of school…. Checking in on who I now know was Carl."

Rick grimaced, somewhat embarrassed. "I can't believe my boy's in high school." He paused, and then glanced at her. "I remember you too," admitted Rick, somewhat shyly.

Michonne flashed him another smile, and it sent a shiver up his spine. They continued to smile at each other, until she finally looked away, eyeing Carl's picture.

"We should probably get back," Michonne said softly.

"Yah… yah you're right," said Rick, though secretly he disagreed. Michonne covered up Carl's picture and then turned back to Rick. She gave him another soft smile and then started to leave. "Maybe you could show me around? Show me some of the good pieces, tell me what you think about them? It'll be good practice for when you open up your own gallery."

Michonne hesitated, briefly, perhaps thinking about boundaries and the fact that his son was her student, but before Rick could even wonder if he had made a mistake, Michonne flashed him the brightest smile of the night.

"I thought you'd never ask," she told him. "There's this sculptured cat a senior made. It's just too damn gorgeous."

Together they made their way back to the front of the auditorium.


	67. Just a Little Touch

_Thought I'd make a one-shot of a few significant times Rick and Michonne touched, leading up to that infamous CANON Richonne scene in "The Next World." In order of appearance, said touches take place from "What Happened and What's Going On," "The Distance," "Remember," and "The Next World" obviously._

 _Title semi-stolen from Jennifer Paige's "Crush."_

 **JUST A LITTLE TOUCH**

 **Rated T**

" _Don't you ever touch me again_!"

Those words had been spoken to Rick in a threatening tone, probably the first and last time she'd really talked to him like that. Funnily enough he'd been listening to her ever since, even if he didn't really know it.

This was no different.

Somewhere in the back of his mind that moment always stood out to him. He never thought about it _per say_ , but subconsciously, it was always there, in the back of his mind.

He never thought about the fact that he could hug Carol, brush Maggie, or tap Sasha, but he never had any physical contact with Michonne.

It wasn't like he _needed_ it. He could seek her out in the middle of a room within seconds – it started to become scary how he seemed to always know where she was, even without meaning to – so ultimately they didn't _need_ to touch. They could read each other without ever having to speak. In essence there wasn't a point in having to touch each other. She was just as observant as he was, and the cop in him could still sweep an entire room without even having to move his eyes.

He knew where she was, and she knew where he was.

If they could connect that way, he didn't exactly have to physically grasp her.

Yet the first time he touched her it was a strange exuberance that registered through his veins.

It had been such a shock that he was temporarily rendered speechless. He'd meant to ask her if she was okay – smashing that picture frame had startled him, and for once she wasn't looking at him, so he had no choice but to extend his hand and press two fingers to her arm to cause her to turn and look at him.

He remembered just staring at her, too stunned to speak or say anything, and for the first time, the two of them weren't on the same page, and he wasn't happy for it.

"Clean shirt," she had stated.

Right. She had broken some glass. That's right.

She wanted a clean shirt because they'd returned to a neighborhood that had been overrun for a boy they hardly even knew.

She was upset, he realized. She wanted this place. She wanted _a_ place.

"We'll figure it out," Rick assured her, and he didn't know why he said it. He just felt the need to comfort her, let her know everything was going to be okay.

It _had_ to be.

"We will," responded Michonne, and she started to walk away. "There's some garbage bags in the garage." She left him, then.

Left him with his fingertips burning.

…

Michonne sat next to him in the driver's seat while Carl and Judith sat in the back. They pulled up to the gates of the community, Rick tense, his brows furrowed, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He replayed their decision to come here over and over again in his mind.

" _This?_ " Rick motioned to the can he was holding as he stared at Aaron. " _This is ours now_."

" _There's more than enough_ ," agreed Aaron.

" _It's ours, whether we go to your camp or not_."

" _What do you mean_?" Carl asked. " _Why wouldn't we go?"_ Rick didn't immediately answer.

" _If he were lying_ ," started Michonne, " _or if he wanted to hurt us, but he isn't, and he's doesn't. We need this. So we're going. All of us_." Her tone had been firm. There would be no arguing with her, he already knew.

So he had decided to go, and they were here.

It took a few seconds of staring at the gate for him to hear it: the children laughing, the birds chirping.

He felt himself start to breathe properly for the first time since they'd left that barn as the conversation he'd had with Michonne echoed into his mind.

" _When you said we were going_ ," Michonne said softly, " _was that for real? Or were you just trying to get this guy to tell us where his camp is_?"

" _We're goin_ '," Rick assure her.

" _Whatever it takes to get there. Just as long as we get there_."

They stared at each other for a few moments before Rick spoke again. " _When you first came up on the walls outside of Woodbury, what did you hear?_ "

" _Nothing_ ," Michonne remembered.

" _And Terminus_?"

" _Nothing_ ," repeated Michonne.

Rick nodded. " _Sometime tonight, we'll be outside his camp's walls. And without seeing inside, I'm gonna have to decide if I wanna bring my family in._ " Understanding dawned upon Michonne. " _He asked me before what it would take for me to believe it was real. Truth is I'm not sure if anyone could convince me to go in there_."

But there were children behind those walls. Children laughing, and playing.

He loosened his grip on the steering wheel, just a little. He glanced at Michonne, who was smiling gently at him. Perhaps sensing that he was relaxing, but still hesitant, Michonne reached across the seat and placed her hand on top of his, squeezing it gently.

He squeezed it back.

"You ready?"

He couldn't answer her. Not directly. So he nodded, and they started to get out of the car.

For some reason, Michonne covering her hand with his nearly made it all worth it in that moment.

…

Michonne lied there, in the dark, hands behind her head, lost in her own thoughts.

She knew Rick was up. Rick was _always_ up. If he wasn't, then it was someone else. They still kept watch. This place hadn't earned their trust yet. It was why they all slept in the same house – not just in the same house, but in the same room.

They were still protecting each other.

They always would.

But here… in Alexandria… they might actually have a chance to catch their breath.

Just a little.

Just enough.

But she needed to get through the Rick. He was _present_ , but he wasn't _here_.

They needed him here.

 _She_ needed him here.

She sat up and quietly made her way to the window, where Rick was standing. The two of them stared out the window for several moments, neither of them saying a word.

Michonne finally broke the silence. "Deanna hasn't given me a job."

Rick paused. "You want one?"

"Yeah." There was no hesitation in her answer. "Do you?" countered Michonne.

"That's signin' the papers," Rick told her. "That's sayin' 'yes, this is how it is.'"

"You afraid to do that?" She knew his answer, but wanted to hear him say it.

However, it was his turn to counter. "Aren't you?"

"No," she told him.

"Then why are we both awake?" She felt like she should have had an answer ready – she normally _always_ had an answer ready, on the tip of her tongue – but in this case she remained silent. He looked at her. "I'ma go take a walk." He brushed passed her, laying his hand on her shoulder.

It wasn't gentle like his past couple of touches had been – not that she was keeping count. This touch was weighed down, heavy almost, as if he were still carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

She wished she could ease that for him, if even for just a little while.

Still, she found slight comfort in the touch nonetheless.

…

Rick stared ahead, breathing in deeply, waiting for the day's events to seep away. Michonne sat next to him, her own breathing slightly labored, presumably lost in her thoughts.

It could have been a peaceful moment, him coming home, sitting on the couch next to Michonne, watching Judith practice crawling in her sleep. Only it wasn't peaceful. Not really.

 _I can't believe I lost that damn truck_ , he thought to himself.

"Oh," he said aloud softly, and started digging into his back pocket. "Gotcha somethin'." He handed Michonne her surprise, and she snatched the pack of mints out of his hand, laughing.

It was such a rare sound, hearing her laugh, that he found himself laughing with her, vowing to himself that he'd bring her something home from a run every single time if he could.

"Is this instead of the toothpaste?" laughed Michonne.

"Mhmm," Rick smiled. Michonne laughed again. "Well, I do have a crate of toothpaste for you," assured Rick. "It's just at the bottom of the lake."

Michonne turned to him, the mints still in her hand. "Oh, so you had a _day_."

Rick chuckled out a yeah. "All on account of your dental hygiene." Michonne smiled, lowering her hand onto the couch. "Have your mints." He meant to just pat her hands a few times. In all retrospect, that's all he _meant_ to do.

Yet one pat led to another, and then her fingers shifted, and suddenly he was holding her hand, his fingers palming hers and gripping her hand.

Nearly every touch the two of them shared flashed in his mind as he stared at their enclosed fingers. He gently manipulated her hands so that the mints fell out of her palms and looked up at her.

She was still staring at their intertwined hands, but eventually her eyes met his.

He might have reached the conclusion a few seconds before she did. He could already feel the smile on his face, and it took her a few seconds after him for it to click for her.

 _Of course_. Of course it was Michonne.

It was _always_ Michonne.

So with their hands still locked, he leaned towards her, realizing that this little touch was just the beginning.


	68. Beautiful

_Don't ask me WHY this song reminded me of Richonne. It's not exactly the happiest of songs LOL. But I hope you enjoy nonetheless. NOT a song fic, just inspiration. James Blunt's "You're Beautiful."_

 **BEAUTIFUL**

 **Rated K**

My life is brilliant  
My love is pure  
I saw an angel  
Of that I'm sure  
She smiled at me on the subway  
She was with another man  
But I won't lose no sleep on that  
'Cause I've got a plan

You're beautiful  
You're beautiful  
You're beautiful, it's true  
I saw your face in a crowded place  
And I don't know what to do  
'Cause I'll never be with you

Up until this very moment, Rick thought his life was brilliant. He was happy, he was in a good place… things were _good_. He'd even go as far as to say life was perfect.

That all changed when he saw her.

People would think he was crazy if he ever said he saw an angel on the subway, but that's what she was. Her beauty was so breathtaking that it was literally the only logical explanation. She _had_ to be an angel.

She was beautiful. Dark brown hair against equally dark skin, and dark eyes to match. A patch of sun hit her at just the right time, and she _glowed_. Quite literally radiance personified, and it made his breath catch in his throat just a little.

She smiled at him, probably being polite because he was _staring_ , but he couldn't help it. He wanted to smile back at her, but Rick wasn't sure the man standing with her would appreciate it.

He was probably used to the stares.

She was _beautiful_.

He wanted to tell her. He'd love to tell her, but the words wouldn't form – and they _shouldn't_ form, really – but she was _fucking_ beautiful and he'd never seen anything like her in his twenty-five years of living.

It was funny, how fate worked. The subway was packed. He was standing, holding on to the rail, as was she, and the man Rick assumed was her boyfriend.

For it to be such a crowded place, his eyes had still found her face.

Fate could certainly be cruel sometimes.

He knew he could never be with her. He would never make a move.

He had no move to _make_.

He just knew for the brief time she was in his presence, time momentarily stopped. He was flying high, riding the waves, and everything was _right_ with the world at the sight of her.

When the subway stopped Rick jerked. He wasn't sure if it was his heart of the brunt of the stop, but he thought it was fitting. It was his stop, and he knew he had to go.

With one last look at the beautiful and mysterious woman, Rick made his way off of the train, slipping his hand in Lori's.

They had an anniversary to celebrate.

* * *

A/N: Bittersweet, I know LOL.


	69. Missing Her

A/N: Happy "Many years ago Native Americans discovered Christopher Columbus lost at sea" Day! Cus… anyone with any sort of brain knows Columbus did NOT discover America.

* * *

 _Prompt—"I would love to see the aftermath of this decision come to blow up in her face, because I am petty like that." -MickeyRos_

 _-and-_

" _I would like to see a continuation of this chapter, with Rick fending off Lori and Michonne coming back and her connection to Rick being even stronger. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. So I would love to see Lori realize that her and Rick are over and Michonne is the love of Ricks life. This was a great chapter but I'd like to see it continue cause it felt like Lori won and that doesn't sit right with me." -Pamaluv6556_

 _-and-_

" _I have to say that I really did enjoy this and I thought it was super petty what Lori did. I do hope that you continue this because I would like to see the fall out when it is discovered what she did. She doesn't have to die and all but still. Lol." –DarkDreamSpell_

 _-and-_

" _This is another one you could definitely keep going with. Great stuff!" -iminyjo_

 _-and-_

" _I would love it if you expanded on this one shot" -izbrumfield_

 _Continuation of Tired of Pretending (Chapter 29)._

 **MISSING HER**

 **Rated T**

Rick sighed for the umpteenth time as he stared at the forest, his binoculars in his hand, his gun at his side. He had lost count of how many times he had scanned the road, waiting for some sort of movement to show that they were back.

He had been waiting for weeks.

Truthfully he had been _missing_ her for weeks.

It was strange to think like that, but it was true. Despite the fact that he was a married man, his marriage would be over if they weren't in the middle of the apocalypse, and she… _Michonne_ would definitely be on his radar.

She already was.

At that moment, before he could delve deeper into those thoughts, he heard someone climbing the guard post. He tried not to roll his eyes once he recognized the footsteps. He knew who this was, and wasn't sure he really wanted to be bothered at the moment. He stayed still and kept his eyes focused ahead as Lori stood next to him.

"Judith just wanted to say goodnight," she said softly. Rick tossed her a glance and then looked back across the dark field.

"Carl already in bed?" asked Rick.

"Yah. He came up and said goodnight already, right?"

Rick nodded and faced Lori, gently grabbing Judith from her. Judith babbled and Rick placed his forehead on hers. "Goodnight, Sweetheart," whispered Rick, breathing in deeply. He kissed her forehead and handed her back to Lori. As soon as Lori had Judith Rick had his binoculars out, scanning the darkness once again.

"She'll come back, Rick." Rick whipped his head towards Lori, looking at her for the first time in what felt like months. "She will. They'll both come back." Rick just continued to stare at her. "Don't look at me like that. I know you. You're worried about her." Lori looked down, absentmindedly bouncing Judith.

Rick finally looked away without saying anything. He had nothing _to_ say. He wasn't going to lie to her. That wasn't in his nature. _She_ was the liar. _She_ was the one who had forgotten their vows. It was funny of her to claim she knew him now, when before the Turn she had accused him of not even knowing if he loved her or their son.

Lori sighed, switching Judith to the other side. "Look, I know awhile back we joked about how we couldn't divorce in the apocalypse, but I'm not trying to spend the rest of our lives miserable. If you really want to… I'm sure we could talk to Hershel." Rick gripped the railing, taking a deep breath. "You don't love me anymore, I get it. And Michonne—"

"Don't." Rick's voice was cold as he glanced at Lori. "It doesn't really matter anyway." Michonne had told him to work it out with Lori. "Even if you and I could divorce… Michonne and I… we _couldn't_. You'd still be here. You're the mother of my children. I can't kick you out. Carl wouldn't understand, and it'd be awkward as hell. Michonne's not that kind of woman, and I'm not that kind of husband."

The insinuation cut like a knife. Rick's body was rigid and tense, and Lori took that as her cue. She silently turned and headed back down, leaving Rick alone with his thoughts.

…

Hershel made his way up to the guard post and stood next to Rick. The two of them stood in silence for a long time, neither of them saying a word, Rick looking through the trees to see if he would catch a glimpse of Daryl and Michonne.

"Rick, you're gonna make yourself sick if you keep this up," Hershel finally said.

"What are you talkin' about?" asked Rick, glancing at Hershel.

Hershel sighed. "Are we really gonna do this? We all know how you feel about Michonne."

"I don't feel _any_ way about her."

"You're not _supposed_ to, but you do." Rick bit the inside of his jaw. "Things are different now, Rick."

"So, what, my vows should mean nothing? I should just… ignore the fact that I have a wife?" Rick turned to face Hershel. "That would make me as guilty as she is."

"As far as I can tell there's not too much difference. You've already committed adultery in your heart. Just because hers was physical and yours is mental doesn't mean anything, Rick."

Rick sighed and looked away before turning back to Hershel. "What am I supposed to do? Lori and I haven't been happy for _years_. We had a moment… we had a _chance_. And then I killed Shane, after _she_ told me to—"

"You wanted to kill Shane, you said so yourself," Hershel reminded him. "You did what you had to do, I get that. I do. I don't knock you for it. The rules are different in this world. You and Lori need to figure it out."

"We can't. Carl's a kid, he wouldn't understand."

"Your son is more observant than you think. If you don't know he sees the tension then you're the one who's oblivious."

"And I'm supposed to what, just flaunt Michonne around in front of Lori? In front of our _children_?"

"I don't know if there's a right answer here, Rick. But you'll drive yourself crazy like this. You don't eat. You take double and triple shifts so that you're always on watch and never sleeping. It's dangerous."

Rick sighed again. "I don't know what to do," he admitted. "How I feel… what I think… half the time I don't know if I sympathize with Lori and what she went through with Shane, or if a sick part of me is doin' this to get back at her."

"Is that your fear? That you don't really care about Michonne but you're jus' usin' her to get back at Lori? 'Cause I can tell you now you're way off base there. Michonne's had an effect on all of us. She's earnin' her keep. Anyone can see why you fell for her. What you need to learn from this is how to forgive Lori. If you can't do that, you'll never let this go."

Rick stayed quiet for a long time. "I don't know if I wanna forgive her."

"The forgiveness isn't for her. It's for you. And eventually… it might be for Michonne too."

Rick stared at Hershel. "Are you givin' me permission to cheat on my wife?"

Hershel gave Rick a smile. "I'm tellin' you the rules have changed, Rick. I know you miss her. I know you're worried about her. It's understandable. I'm not sayin' it's right… but I'm not sayin' it's wrong, either. You gotta figure it out for yourself." Hershel placed a hand on Rick's shoulder. "Eat somethin' and rest tonight. They'll be back eventually."

Rick watched Hershel leave and let out another long sigh.

…

Lori watched as Rick went into his cell. Her plan had definitely backfired. She never even saw it coming, but she should have. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and Michonne had been gone for a while now.

He missed her.

And Lori couldn't compete with that.

Lori felt a tingle in her throat and coughed, taking a deep breath. She didn't feel good, she noted. Probably because her husband was falling in love with another woman.

Lori supposed she deserved that.

* * *

A/N: I feel like I might end up doing a multi-chap fic to this Universe... what do yall think? It's SERIOUSLY grown on me.


	70. Observations

A/N: To the guest who asked: the last chapter was a follow up on Chapter 29 (Tired of Pretending).

To everyone else: SOOOOOO the support for making chapter 29 and Chapter 69 into a multi-chap fic was OVERWHELMING. I will be doing so shortly. I'll let you all know once I start posting. I'm glad you all enjoyed the last chapter and I'm afraid none of the other one-shots will ever amount to that one LOL. You guys really liked it.

* * *

 _Was on Tell it to the Dead website and we were discussing Richonne headcanons, and I thought of this: Carl noticed his dad's wedding ring was off before Michonne did (maybe Michonne was already on watch or something) but Carl didn't comment on it._

 **OBSERVATIONS**

 **Rated K**

Carl wasn't stupid.

Nor was he a kid.

He knew that something was happening between his dad and Michonne.

 _They_ seemed oblivious, but he wasn't stupid.

The first time he noticed it was on his third night home from the infirmary. He had noticed the way they tended to tuck him in… together. At the same time. Every night.

Just like his dad had used to do with his mother.

Only where things had been strained and tense between Rick and Lori, things were natural and easy between Rick and Michonne.

He couldn't say he was all that surprised. If there was anybody in _this_ world that his dad trusted, it was Michonne. And in Carl's mind, there was no one more deserving of that trust than Michonne. Michonne had earned her keep, had proven herself time and time again.

Thinking about it, Carl had subconsciously been hoping that this would happen. Michonne had been like a mother figure, only more. He knew that he would never have had a relationship with his mother like the one he had with Michonne. Michonne was more than a motherly-like figure, she was his _friend_ , more so than anyone else.

She understood him.

And she understood his father.

Anyone who could do that, deserved Rick Grimes.

His mother hadn't understood him. Deep down he knew that. It had taken Carl a long time not to let his mother's words creep in over the years.

" _Sometimes I wonder if you even love us_."

Carl hadn't understood those words – that accusation – nearly as much then as he did now. His father could be aloof, cold, distant…. He could be hard to read and even harder to understand.

And Carl was just like him.

He was hard on his father, he understood that, but it didn't mean he didn't love him.

Sometimes Carl wondered if his dad knew how much he did love him, admire, him, look up to him. Yes, Carl was hard on his father sometimes. He'd been disappointed. But he loved his dad, and he no longer had to question if his father loved him back.

He _knew_ he did.

But a man's love for his son, or even his daughter, could only get a man so far. It was no wonder his father had run to the first woman who'd flashed him a smile.

Jessie was all wrong for his father. Maybe back in the old world, when his parents had divorced – and they would have, Carl was sure of it – Jessie would have been a good fit. But in _this_ world? In the apocalypse? Absolutely not.

Jessie didn't stand a chance, and neither did her pathetic kids. His father deserved someone better, someone who knew how to fend for herself, someone who understood that there were tough decisions that had to be made, by any means necessary.

Jessie might have been good for Farmer Rick.

She wasn't good for the _real_ Rick Grimes.

After his father had nearly risked all of them by attacking Pete, Carl lied in bed that night wondering why his father was making a fool of himself, and if he absolutely had to do so, why he couldn't do it for someone like Michonne.

And then it hit him, full in the gut, how much more sense that made. Who else would be better suited for his father, or for Michonne for that matter?

But they continued to walk around, clueless as ever.

But he got it. He understood. Rick and Michonne never rested. They never allowed themselves to think about what it is they wanted. They weren't like Glenn and Maggie, or Abraham and Rosita…. Those were people who could take a few seconds to fall in love with someone. Rick and Michonne had too much at stake.

But on his third night home… Carl saw it. Michonne had entered his bedroom, a towel wrapped around her head, her bathrobe tied around her body.

It was just a flicker, but it was there: his dad had noticed Michonne.

Carl was sure his father had noticed Michonne before, but this time he had _noticed_ her, noticed her as a _woman_.

Wanting to make sure he wasn't just seeing things, Carl started paying special attention to the way his father treated Michonne. Before long he was finding reasons to touch her, and it didn't take all that long for them to start high-fiving each other every evening and low-fiving each other every morning. He'd gently bump her if they ever walked side by side, or she'd tap his knee to pass by, even though she could have just gone around.

It was in the way his father was suddenly more relaxed. The way he was laughing more, and listening to music – if you could call what he listened to _music_ – every morning, snapping his fingers, tapping his foot, and generally singing along – and off key.

It was in the way dinner suddenly became a family affair. It was how his dad would ask Michonne if she needed anything from his run with Daryl, as if he was just running to this store and needed to know if his wife needed anything picked up for dinner.

Yet he never asked Maggie, or Carol, or Sasha what _they_ needed.

Hell, his dad never even asked _him_ if _he_ needed anything.

He was the one with the shot out eye.

But the most telling sign, the most obvious thing, was about a month after he'd been home. After they'd grown into a routine of family nights around the dinner table, and they'd tuck him into bed, Michonne doing so in her bathrobe more often than not… after all that, what really made Carl take notice, was the fact that one day he noticed his father's wedding ring was off.

At first it caught Carl off guard. He did a double take, blinking rapidly, but there was no denying it: the ring was gone.

Carl thought that maybe his dad had just forgotten to put it on – maybe he rushed out the shower (probably to see Michonne off before she took watch) – and he forgot to put it back on, but when it still wasn't on by the time dinner rolled around – a whole week later – Carl knew that it was a conscious decision his father had made.

He was okay with it, Carl realized.

Both of them were.

It was time.

And soon, hopefully, Michonne would be okay with it too.


	71. Just Survive Somehow

_We were talking on the TiTTD website and discussing if Richonne would get an on-screen love scene in S7…. I say yes. So here is my take on the first time we see Richonne get it in._

 **JUST SURVIVE SOMEHOW**

 **Rated M for Richonne doing the grown up**

Rick made his way to his bedroom, never even really seeing it. In all honesty he didn't want to be here – he wanted to be wrapped around his children, holding Judith and Carl as close to him as possible, and never let them go.

He never wanted them out of his sight again.

With trembling hands Rick took off his shirt, filled with his friend's blood. He tried not to think about it. He let the shirt flutter to the floor and started to make his way to the bathroom.

He needed to shower.

It was the only reason he had left his children. He _had_ to shower.

He slipped out of his boots, and then left his pants and underwear by the door. He stepped into the bathroom, turning on the light, and saw the blood splatter on his face.

He barely made it to the toilet before emptying his stomach.

…

Michonne finished kissing Judith and then turned around and left, taking a deep breath in order to keep the tears at bay.

She would _not_ lose it right now. She couldn't.

She made her way to Carl's room. She was surprised to find him asleep – if there was anyone she thought would be awake still, it was Carl. His anger had probably exhausted him, as had his grief, so maybe she shouldn't be all that surprised.

She walked into his bedroom, noting he had his gun in his hand. His body was tense, so she knew he wasn't sleeping that deeply.

None of them would probably ever sleep deeply again.

At least… not until Negan was killed.

Alexandria had allowed them to let their guard down.

It was stupid to come here.

…

Rick scrubbed at his face until it was raw and red.

He wanted it off. _Off_.

So much blood… blood everywhere. He had to get rid of it. So he scrubbed, and scrubbed, until there was nothing left. Disgusted he placed the towel down and turned on the shower, as hot as he could stand it, and stepped inside.

It didn't take long for the grief to consume him. He could feel the pressure in his stomach, and the way his heart beat traitorously in his chest.

His heart was beating, but there were those who hearts beat no more.

He closed his eyes, letting the water cascade down upon him, wishing that he could drown.

At the very least, he wished that he could be cleansed.

He felt the air start to thicken, and soon his breath was coming out in short gasps. He felt himself start to get lightheaded.

He rested his head against the cool tile of the shower.

He had to keep it together. He had people counting on him, and he couldn't let them down.

Not again.

…

Michonne made her way into the bedroom, noting immediately that it was empty. She saw his clothes, bloodied, on the floor, a trail leading to the bathroom. The bathroom door was slightly ajar and she made her way inside the bathroom.

The bathroom wasn't large but it was nearly impossible to see. The steam was thick but Michonne made her way to the glass shower, shedding her own bloody clothes. She pulled open the door, her heart aching at the sight of Rick, his head against the tilel, breathing deeply.

Michonne hesitated for a brief second before reaching out and touching him.

…

He didn't think he could take her pity, but when he finally turned to look at her, her eyes were just as fierce as they always were.

He _knew_ her, and she would make him pay, he already knew.

Negan would pay one day.

And that scared him more than anything.

The thought of losing Michonne… the thought of losing anyone else period, was more than he could take.

He couldn't tell if it was water or tears running down his face.

"Are you okay?" Michonne asked softly.

It was a stupid question. No, of course he wasn't okay. He was broken.

But he was alive, and that was more than he could say for some, so it wasn't fair to say anything like that.

She seemed to understand, because she stepped up to him and pulled him to her. He remained stiff in her arms – he didn't deserve her, and if he ever thought that before, he knew so now, because he tended to get people _killed_ – so he was afraid to touch her.

"Don't do that," said Michonne in his ear. She gently pushed him away so that she could stare at him. "Don't push me away. Not now."

"Michonne, I can't…." His voice broke at the end.

"You can, and you will." Rick just shook his head. She stared at him for a second before stepping to him again. She slowly reached out and touched him, happy when he didn't flinch away from her. "Let me make it better. Let me remind you that we're _alive_."

…

He wasn't sure he deserved to feel pleasure… especially _this_ kind of pleasure, but one kiss and he had to have her. He _needed_ to have her.

He let her take it all away: the guilt, the hurt, the pain, the disappointment, the sorrow… the _grieving_. He stopped thinking about death and destruction and hurt and heartache, and instead he just focused on her.

Solely on her.

"Don't be gentle," she told him huskily, and honestly he didn't need to be told. He was ready, and he needed this, needed _her_ like never before.

He devoured her lips, his kisses hot against her mouth, the water cascading around them. Their tongues battled for domination, and Rick realized that she needed this just as much as he did.

Somewhat aggressively Rick pushed Michonne against the tile, pinning her body between him and the shower wall. He kissed her, violently, their teeth scraping, until he couldn't breathe anymore.

When he finally pulled away she hooked one leg around his waist, already desperate for them to connect. He had other ideas in mind, however, so he forced her leg back down and started planting burning kisses on her body.

He sunk his teeth into her neck, her bod jerking in his arms, but he didn't care. He barely heard her moan from the pounding in his ears. He kept assaulting her, his tongue licking her, his lips burning her, his teeth leaving marks.

He flicked his tongue over her breast, causing Michonne to whimper, and he squeezed the other one, the familiar weight of them forcing to him to pay attention to this moment.

He played with her breasts for a few moments, kneading them and sucking them, until she pulled his hair and forced his mouth back upon hers. She sucked on his bottom lip, nearly making Rick's toes curl, and then she reversed their positions so that he was the one against the tile.

Rick welcomed the coolness as Michonne attempted to set his skin on fire with her lips. She let a trail of kisses down his body until she got on her knees, her mouth warm as she took him in.

He threw his head back and moaned, _loudly_ , suddenly grateful for the ability to feel pleasure. And pleasure he did feel, all over. She had his body tingling.

When he couldn't take it anymore he pulled at her hair. She took that as her cue and stood up, her eyes dark. Rick leaned in and kissed her, their tongues once again trying to figure out who was boss.

They didn't get to figure it out. He pulled away, and without so much of a thought, because he couldn't think of anything but her, he _couldn't_ think of anything but her, Rick picked her up, forcing her against the wall again, and thrusted his tongue in between her legs. Michonne's body buckled and she arched her back. Rick tightened his grip on her thighs, Rick flicking his tongue against her until she came.

She let out a startled cry, her body convulsing, but Rick didn't allow her much time for relief. He shoved himself into her so swiftly that it caught Michonne off guard. Her body still reacted, though, and her back arched off of the wall, a scream on her lips as Rick pounded into her.

He felt like he was working towards an itch he couldn't scratch. His hips plummeted into hers, harshly, relentlessly, his nails digging into his skin. His mind was blank, and for once, it wasn't with pure pleasure. Michonne choked out a sob as another orgasm wound its way through her, but he barely even heard the way she chanted his name.

He sped up, going deeper, his eyes blurring, their pelvises meeting each other in frantic thrusts. He was lost, and he was trying to climb out of this dark hole, and the only way he could do so was with her. There was a void he was trying to fill, and he could only do so with her.

He sped up even more, trying, trying, trying to assuage the guilt, forget the death, ignore the pain.

There was just Michonne.

Only Michonne.

She came and it surprised him, proof that maybe he wasn't really all the way here. He looked at her, his eyes glowing nearly black, and kept eye contact with her.

A part of him wanted to be gentle, but his body seemed to have other ideas. He couldn't do _gentle_. They had nearly lost their lives – some of them _had_ lost their lives – and what they were doing was undeniable proof that they were _alive_. They had survived.

"I love you," he stuttered out, and he hated, _hated_ the thought that the first time he said to her was because of Negan, and the underlying fear that Negan would take her away before he found the perfect time to tell her.

She came at his words, and then locked her legs around his waist, tightening her grip around him, her nails digging into her back.

"I love you too." Her voice was breathless, her back arched, her eyes fluttered closed, her body slick with water droplets.

She'd never looked more beautiful.

He sped up, desperate for her, desperate to remember that they were alive, that they made it, and it was wrong, it was so wrong, because some of them didn't make it, but she felt so _good_ …. It felt like all was right whenever he was inside of her.

Rick came, a roaring sound in his ears, his hips slapping against hers as he attempted to release every drop inside of her. Michonne bit his shoulder and his body jerked. He welcomed the pain, cursing as he saw stars.

It was better than seeing their faces.

So many faces.

Rick felt Michonne clench one last time around him, and then he slowly and reluctantly pulled out of her. The lack of contact hit him like a ton of bricks. He never wanted to let her go, or be out of her sight.

He could spend the rest of his life inside of her.

Rick inhaled sharply, attempting to look her over despite the water falling on them.

"How are we gonna get through this?" Rick asked her.

Michonne locked her arms around his neck, keeping eye contact. "We just survive somehow. We have no choice."

He thought he could do that, as long as they survived together.


	72. Seein' Thangs

_Wanted to touch on the scene in "Clear" after Carl tells Rick Michonne is one of them and he sort of space's out. I don't think he saw Lori. Maybe, MAYBE he was thinking about her figuring they were in their old neighborhood, but I think it dawned on him that Michonne could be different. SO… this is that story._

 **SEEIN' THANGS**

 **Rated K**

Rick placed the remaining bags in the trunk of the car, the words his son told him replaying in his mind.

" _I think she might be one of us. Everything went okay."_

Rick wasn't sure what he had expected his son to say, but he felt the weight lift off of his shoulders in regards to Michonne. He had taken a risk letting her go off with Carl – he didn't really know her, and he wasn't sure about her, but she was proving herself trustworthy.

She'd gotten through to Carl, and lately that'd been an impossible task.

He looked up at his old neighborhood. He'd never come back here again, he knew. There was no point. There was nothing left to go back to. He had a sneaky suspicion that Michonne and Carl hadn't just gotten a crib, and he'd find out what they had done soon enough, but he'd left his son's life in her hands and she'd bought him back in one piece, and had convinced him that she was one of them.

They could move forward.

A part of him wanted to say goodbye to this place. There were so many memories, some of them happy, some of them not so much, but they were memories; familiar nonetheless.

He had to let the past go. He couldn't dwell on it, on them.

Morgan.

Lori.

He had a newer family now, one that might end up including Michonne.

And for some reason, he found that that pill wasn't all that hard to swallow. She was earning her keep. He imagined he hadn't been making it easy for her.

He could do better. He _could_. She tested him, because she didn't immediately fall in line like the others. But who else had challenged him in the past and had ended up becoming important to him? Glenn. Daryl. Hershel.

He supposed that maybe it was time to add Michonne to that list.

He sort of snapped out of his haze when he found Michonne next to him, placing the guns next to him in the back of the truck.

Rick figured it was nothing but pure training that allowed him to not jump out of his skin. Being back in town gave him the same confidence being a cop used to, it was the only reason he could think of as to why she hadn't scared him to death.

He hadn't even seen Michonne approach him.

"You see somethin'?"

The question was simple enough, but it had him staring at her. He looked at her, taking special care to see her in a new light. It wasn't even all that difficult.

He didn't immediately answer. He'd just been thinking about opening up to her, being a little nicer, but not about this… not about his _past_.

"I know you see things. People." Rick looked down, still unable to say anything. "I used to talk to my dead boyfriend. It happens."

She was being sincere, he realized, and suddenly, suddenly standing before him was someone who _understood_ him, and just like that, everything clicked into place for him.

He wouldn't talk to her about Lori. He wasn't ready for that yet. But he knew when the time was right… she would be there.

She _was_ one of them.

"You wanna drive?" he asked. It was a far cry from telling her to meet them outside at the prison earlier this morning and tossing her the keys.

"Yeah."

He nodded. "Good." He handed her the keys. "'Cus I see thangs."

She gave him a soft smile as he turned away, heading towards the front seat.

He _did_ see things.

And he was definitely seeing her much more clearly.


	73. Falling Leaves

_Fluff piece. Kinda._

 **FALLING LEAVES**

 **Rated K**

The air was cool and crisp, the sunset light orange, fall officially in the air. Both Michonne and Rick walked around Alexandria, their constable jackets on to keep them warm, Rick's gun in its holster, Michonne's sword on her back. They walked in a comfortable silence, side by side, and in sync.

That is, until Michonne jumped a few feet ahead.

The sound of the leaves crunching beneath her boot made Michonne chuckle softly. It earned her a quizzical look from Rick, who was walking next to her.

"What's so funny?" he asked, his eyebrow raised, his southern accent still as thick as ever.

"I love Fall," confessed Michonne gently. "Before, whenever the leaves would start to fall, I would always try to jump on the crunchiest leaves. My love for fall must have been passed down to Andre. We used to spend hours on random fall days gathering leaves, then playing in them, throwing them at each other…. It was fun."

She gave him a soft, sad smile that had Rick's heart aching. She hardly ever talked about Andre, and when she did it always made Rick wish he could bring him back to Michonne.

The mood changed a little after that – it always did, whenever Andre was mentioned. They continued their walk, which they did more so out of habit now than anything else.

Things were calmer now.

The new members of Alexandria had settled in nicely. Though some of them might still need to see a "police" presence, most of them had come to the same conclusion: that Alexandria _worked_. It was safe, their system worked, and they knew what they were doing.

Still, it was nice to get out of the house every now and then, and making their rounds was a good way for them to have some alone time.

Rick reached out and grabbed her hand, intertwining it with his. She seemed startled at first, and when she looked at him her eyes were wide with surprise.

It was then that he knew she was more affected than she was trying to let on.

She forced a smile, tightening her grip, and they walked the rest of the way hand-in-hand, waving to people who shouted their hellos to them, or who they passed on the street.

"Fall always reminds me of the fair, and pumpkins, and Halloween." Michonne's voice was soft, and Rick didn't interrupt her. He just let her talk. "It's all about boots, and scarves, and warm colors, even though it never got all that cold in Atlanta."

"I miss Atlanta cold. Alexandria cold is painful."

Michonne nodded. "That it is." Rick glanced at her, wondering if she had even really heard him. She actually didn't mind the winters here all that much. He had a much more difficult time adjusting than she did. "Winter _is_ cold. That's why I was always partial to fall. And it's so beautiful out here. I love the way the leaves change colors. It's almost artistic, seeing all the shades of red, gold, bronze, and brown."

"Maybe you should paint it," suggested Rick.

"Yah… maybe," Michonne stated in a way that told Rick she wouldn't. They continued on, the silence loud, until they arrived back at the house, just as the sun officially set. "I think I'm going to call it an early night," said Michonne quietly.

"'Chonne…."

"I'm okay," she assured him. "I just need a moment." Rick looked at her, stared into those coffee colored orbs, and nodded, looking away to hide his frown. Michonne stepped up to him, gently placing her hands on his cheek and forcing him to look at him. "I'll be fine." She kissed him gently, and it was just as loving, just as real, just as _sure_ as it always was, so Rick let her go. He watched as she walked into the house, leaving the door ajar so that he could walk through behind her.

She would be okay, he knew.

And he knew exactly how to ensure that would happen.

He walked into the house, glancing around the living room until his eyes rested on Carl. "Hey," Rick told his son. "I need you to do me a favor."

…

The next morning Rick woke Michonne a little earlier than usual. She had tossed and turned all night, and nothing he did could really comfort her, so he just held her.

Now, however, it was time for her surprise.

"What is it?" asked Michonne, clearly groggy. "What's wrong?"

Rick shook his head. "Nothin'. I jus' want you to come outside for a moment."

Michonne blinked at him. "Right now?"

"Soon as you can put on somethin' a little warmer."

Michonne sighed. "Okay." She started to get out of bed and Rick left her alone to wash up and throw on some clothes. A few moments later she made her way downstairs, in her signature leggings, her boots, his brown shirt, and her constable jacket. He didn't say a word, just grinned at her, and then headed out the door, Michonne a few feet behind him.

He heard her gasp, and then turned around just in time to see the surprise on her face at the sight before: their front lawn full several piles of colored leaves. Most of the kids from the neighborhood were present, as were Carl and Judith, along with some adults, including Aaron and his camera, all of them staring at her expectantly.

"How on earth did you do this?" she asked.

"Carl and I asked a few neighborhood kids to help pick up leaves," said Rick. "They woke up at sunrise and filled up bags and bags of leaves and then dumped them all on our lawn."

Michonne slowly walked down the steps, taking in their front yard, and all the leaves.

Without saying a word Michonne walked to one of the piles and stepped in it. Then she bent down, grabbed a large handful of leaves, and threw them up in the air, all of them following down on top of her.

She barely heard the sound of the camera as she laughed.

After that the rest of the kids joined in, running to the yard, and everybody started throwing leaves at each other. Rick and Carl were on one team while Michonne and Judith were on another. When Michonne and Judith won, Rick ran towards them and tackled them both, forcing them to fall into the mountain of leaves, Rick's arms engulfing Michonne and Judith.

It would be one of several pictures that Aaron captured.


	74. Of Soulmates, Scars, & Kisses

_This was fantastic! Soulmate AUs are everything I never knew I wanted. I'd really love a sequel to this story from Michonne's POV." –MickeyRos_

 _This is referencing Chapter 17_

 **OF SOULMATES, SCARS, AND KISSES**

 **Rated M for smut**

Michonne was happy. Her life was good. She was successful, she had a beautiful baby boy, and she was in an amazing relationship with a wonderful man who made her feel like life was perfect.

He always made her smile, she could have intellectual conversation with him, and they could spend hours in an art museum discussing and debating an art piece. They could paint together, they could write together, they could create together.

Their greatest masterpiece? Their son, Andre.

He was her happily ever after. Her best friend.

Her proof that one didn't have to find their soulmate to fall in love.

Michonne had met Mike in college. On the surface they didn't seem to have a lot in common, only they ended up at the same events more often than not. When there was a painting and poetry event, Michonne was picked to recite poetry and Mike was picked to paint while she spoke.

The rest, to say the least, was history.

They got along just fine, they were the perfect couple, and anyone on the outside looking in would never have any idea that they weren't _truly_ soulmates.

By the time they had figured it out, they were far too into each other to even care anymore.

Michonne could say, with total confidence, that she did not care in the least that the scar she got on her third birthday when she fell off the horse was still on her arm, even after Mike had kissed it.

She'd let him make love to her anyway, and she knew it wouldn't have been more magical, it couldn't have been more magical, even if he was her soulmate.

She had nothing to go off of, no reason to believe, that they weren't destined for each other, even as she declined his offer to marry her, not once, not twice, but three times.

"We're so young," she would tell him with a smile. "We have plenty of time to get married."

He asked again after Andre was born, and again, she declined. "I don't need a ring to tell me that we're in love."

She told herself she didn't need to be married.

When she found her son, dead, and Mike dead along with him, Michonne understood why she couldn't truly, unconditionally love him.

They weren't wrong.

But they certainly want _right_.

She expected to be alone for the rest of her life. With the world gone to shit there was no point in even pretending something as trivial as soulmates still mattered. For all she knew her soulmate had been bitten and had turned.

It didn't matter.

Nothing mattered without Andre.

…

And then one day, someone did matter again.

She saw so much of her son in Carl. As time progressed she started to hope that had her son lived, he would have been like Carl: brave, strong, fearless, kind.

Some days she didn't know who she was looking at, Andre or Carl. She started to realize that a part of Andre lived in Carl. Her sweet, sweet boy had come back to her in some ways, in the physical body of a boy who she had grown to love and care for like her own.

And this boy's father… this beautiful soul who handed her a pack of mints, was reminding her about a piece of her that she had long since forgotten about.

He was all over her, and she let him, because it felt _right_ , and nothing had felt right for a long time. His body was warm, his hands _glorious_ as they rubbed his body, and she was ready, so ready for him.

His weight felt _wonderful_ on top of her, and his lips were possessive, his hands aggressive as they touched her all over. She moaned into his mouth, wondering how on earth it took her so long to kiss this man.

Rick Grimes.

Her best friend.

Confidant.

Partner.

 _Lover_.

She slipped her tongue into his mouth and he responded, his body hard on top of hers.

"We should go upstairs," she told him, breathless, because she wanted more, so much more. He grunted, and at first she wasn't sure that he had acknowledged her statement. It wasn't until he finally climbed off of her, reaching out for her hand, that she realized this was going to happen.

Getting upstairs was a blur – she couldn't begin to describe how quickly she wanted and needed to get to him – but once they were up there, things started to slow down.

Michonne sighed into his mouth, his tongue quickly becoming familiar, and then broke away so that she could put her lips on other things. His chest was firm, and hard, and she noted the scar he'd gotten from Morgan all those months ago.

She kissed it without even thinking about it. All she was thinking about was wanting to take away all of his past pains, so she kissed the scar, and then intended to go down further, when she stiffened.

The scar was gone. She blinked at his chest for a few moments, too stunned to move.

"Rick," she finally whispered in shock.

"What?" His voice was husky, she could tell he hadn't noticed yet, and it took him a few seconds to follow her eyes. She watched as he looked down at his chest, probably noticing nothing, until it hit him: it was gone. His scar was gone.

His eyes stayed on his chest for a few moments before he finally looked at her again, his eyes filled with wonderment. Not necessarily surprise, she noted, but awe. Then his eyes focused on the cut on her forehead. She had gotten that cut from the Governor, several months ago, and she _hated_ that scar. She watched as he deliberately brought his mouth to her forehead, his lips tenderly brushing the scar.

By the time he leaned back to look at it, it was gone.

"Holy shit," said Rick, his voice filled with disbelief. "Holy fuckin' shit." He laughed and placed his forehead against hers, shaking his head. "I'm not even all that surprised. Of course it's you. Who the hell else would it be?"

She felt her heart beat properly for the first time in months, and then she enveloped him. "Make love to me," she asked him gently.

He was willing, and he pushed her against the wall. The same pace from downstairs seemed to have returned, and he didn't waste any time.

They had the rest of their lives to learn each other's bodies.

For now, there was just desire, primal _need_ to be connected, soulmate to soulmate, and with no hesitation he slipped into her. Her body reacted to him. She arched her back, meeting his fierce thrusts, determined to feel every piece of him, every ridge of him.

Somehow, someway they made it to the bed, absolutely breathless, and eventually the room stopped spinning.

Incredible.

That had been absolutely incredible.

It was like she had found a piece of herself that was missing. It had been found, and she had been made whole.

She stared at Rick under heavily lidded eyes. He was putting his watch down when she noticed another scar.

"What scar is this?" she asked him.

"I was shot in the line of duty," he responded.

"This the one that put you in a coma?"

He nodded and looked at her. "Carl told you?"

"Yah." He nodded again and she reached up and placed her lips to his scar, watching, fascinated, as it disappeared. It sent a thrill up her spine.

She vowed to count every scar, and she did.

When it was his turn he found the scar on her arm. "What happened here?" asked Rick.

"I fell off of a horse when I was three."

"You had a horse when you were _three_?"

Michonne laughed. "It was more like a pony. My dad got it for me."

He smiled fondly at her and then brushed his lip to her arm, watching the scar disappear.

She let him kiss away every other scar, noting things finally felt _right_.


	75. Sleeping with the One I Love

_A few times Rick might have watched Michonne sleep_.

 **SLEEPING WITH THE ONE I LOVE**

 **Rated K**

"How'd it go out there?" asked Rick quietly.

Daryl shrugged. "Same shit different day, I guess."

Rick nodded and continued looking ahead. "How long you guys been back?"

"Coupla hours."

Rick glanced at Daryl. "Why aren't you asleep like Michonne?"

"Ain't tired yet," stated Daryl. "I'll crash sometime today." Rick nodded.

Rick continued to stare at Michonne through her cell. She was snoring softly, but Rick refused to admit he found it adorable. She was probably exhausted. They had just come back from their longest search yet. They hadn't come back victorious, Rick knew. The Governor was still out there. "How is she?"

"She's good. Mad, I think, cus we still ain't find him. But other than walkers we aint really run into nothin' or no one."

"Good."

Daryl blinked at Rick. "I'm good too, Rick, thanks for askin'."

Rick finally turned to Daryl. "I know you are."

Daryl's snort could be heard all down the cell block.

…

Rick sat up, the room pitch black, but he could still make out Daryl at the window. He got up and walked towards the window, standing next to Daryl.

"Can't sleep?" asked Daryl.

"Hell no," Rick replied. "Why don't you try and get some rest? I'll keep watch."

Daryl glanced at Rick and nodded, making his way against the back wall and lying down. Rick watched him for a few seconds before staring out the window, taking everything in.

He didn't want to be here, but Michonne had insisted.

 _Michonne_.

Rick looked behind him and stared at Michonne's sleeping frame. Her breathing was even, but not deep, and he knew she wasn't in a deep sleep. None of them were probably in a deep sleep.

He stared at her, part of her face highlighted by the moon.

Rick turned away before he allowed himself to think about how beautiful she was.

…

Rick got in from watch, noting that the house was quiet. It was near midnight, so that wasn't all that surprising.

He made his way upstairs, making his way to Carl's room. He opened the door and peaked in, noting that one hand was atop of the gun on the nightstand.

That was Carl Grimes in a nutshell: always locked and loaded. Some of his people had moved out, moved into their own houses. They had their own rooms now. But they would probably always be on guard. They had to be.

Rick softly closed the door and headed to Judith's room. He tip-toed inside, already smiling as he heard her soft snores. He approached the crib and looked down, gently caressing her hair. He bent down and kissed her, freezing as she stirred, and then breathed properly when she stayed asleep.

He left Judith's room and bypassed Michonne. Her door was slightly ajar, nothing but the moon highlighting her room. He took a peak, noting the way Michonne hadn't even bothered to change out of her clothes – proof of how exhausted she must have been. She wasn't even under the covers: she was just on the bed, one hand over her face, her sword on her stomach.

It struck him then, how much her and Carl acted alike sometimes.

He smiled softly, and then gently closed the door.

…

Rick walked inside, intent on calling out, when he noticed Daryl on the couch, asleep. He chuckled to himself, noting Michonne's handy work: she'd placed a blanket over Daryl. He knew it was her because Daryl wouldn't have done it for himself.

He made his way upstairs, yawning as he did so. He passed his own room and made his way to Judith's room.

His blood nearly ran cold as he realized Judith wasn't in her room. He froze, for about a second, before telling himself to _calm down_. She was probably with Michonne.

Only Michonne's room was empty.

He walked across the hall and opened Carl's door, attempting to breathe a sigh of relief, only he couldn't.

Instead his breath caught in his throat.

She was fine.

They were _all_ fine.

They were all asleep on Carl's bed, Carl's head resting on Michonne's shoulder, his bandage covering half his face. Judith was in Michonne's arms, sleeping peacefully, her body secured between one of Michonne's arms and one of Carl's.

Michonne had one leg stretched out on the bed, the other firmly placed on the floor. The arm not securing Judith was gripping her sword.

It hit him then, how much she meant to him.

It was overwhelming, nearly crushing, how much he cared about her.

His children were safe, were _alive_ , because of her.

He smiled softly into the night, and left them, heading to his own room.

The smile never left his face, even as he took off his wedding ring.

…

Michonne shifted right as Rick had started to doze off. His eyes snapped open and he glanced at her.

Every time he looked at her sleeping frame he couldn't help but smile, especially because she was lying next to him.

She was gorgeous when she slept. Absolutely breath-taking. Her 'locs cascaded around her pillow, clashing beautifully against the white sheets. She looked relaxed and peaceful, and it was such a rare thing that he attempted to memorize every feature.

They were rarely relaxed, but when she slept… when there were moments like this, where he was just a man admiring the woman he loved… he felt normal.

She gave him normal.

It was why he could watch her sleep every night for the rest of his life.


	76. Of Patronuses and Secret Meetings

_Continuation of Chapter 46. HP 'verse_

 **OF PATRONUSES AND SECRET MEETINGS**

 **Rated K**

"Expecto Patronum," Rick said again, but once again, nothing happened. He groaned in frustration and threw down his wand. "I give _up_."

"Rick, you're thinking too hard," sighed Michonne. "Just relax and think of a happy memory. Surely you have _something_?"

"I'm _tryin_ ," Rick admitted.

Michonne sighed again. "If you don't mind me asking, what memory are you using?"

Rick shrugged. "The one where Jessie and I went to Hogsmeade last weekend."

Michonne blinked at him. "You're attempting to ward off Dementors by thinking of a memory of you and some _girl_ that you haven't even been dating all that long?" Rick shrugged again. "That's not strong enough, not nearly strong enough. You'll have to think of something else."

"How? With everything going on, how am I supposed to be _happy_?"

Michonne sighed wearily. "Why don't we call it a night?" she asked gently.

Rick stared at Michonne for a few seconds and then nodded. "I didn't mean to be a downer," Rick said, putting his wand away.

Michonne didn't immediately respond. "You're not wrong," said Michonne as they left the room of requirements. "Things are changing out there."

"There are whispers of a war comin' soon," commented Rick.

"It wouldn't surprise me."

"There's never been a more dangerous time to join the Ministry."

"That won't stop me for applying for an Auror position."

"So… you're still interested? Even though Voldemort is gaining power?"

"Do I strike you as a coward?"

Rick could hear the accusation in her voice. He bumped her gently with his hip. "Course not. You're in Gryffindor, aren't you? I'm jus' sayin'… I wanna be sure that you're comin' along. I wanna get out there, I wanna take out Death Eater's, especially the ones in our own school."

"Yah, you're making that obvious," commented Michonne. "You've been reckless. I haven't forgotten about your stunt this past summer."

"You mean when you knocked me out?"

"That was for you… not them," Michonne told him sternly, frowning at the memory of Rick getting into a fight with a couple of bad people this past summer.

"I know," stated Rick softly. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just itchin' for somethin' to happen."

Michonne stopped Rick so that they could face each other. "Something's going to happen," she told him. "Just don't _make_ something happen. When it does… just know I'm with you." He blinked at her, unable to convey what those words meant to him. He nodded. "We should get going. We can't have the Head Boy and Head Girl caught roaming the hallway after hours."

Together they made their way back towards the Gryffindor Common Room.

…

"Okay, class, that's all for today," Professor McGonagall said. "Don't forget about your homework, but do enjoy your weekend." The sound of chairs scraping against the floor was immediate. "Mr. Grimes, Miss Rogers, if I could see you both before you go."

Rick and Michonne glanced at each other, both of them shrugging. Rick told Jessie he'd meet up with her later, and then he made his way to Professor McGonagall's desk.

"These are for you," she said briskly, handing both Rick and Michonne an envelope. "Professor Dumbledore wants to see you both, in his office." Rick and Michonne glanced at each other. "You're not in trouble, so stop looking so worried," snapped McGonagall. "Everything is in the letter. You would do well to head back to your dormitories quietly."

"Yes, Ma'am," Michonne said, and together she and Rick made their way to the Common Room.

It was packed, most of the seats taken, so Michonne led them to her Head Girl room.

"What do you think this is about?" asked Michonne.

Rick shrugged. "McGonagall said we weren't in trouble." Together they opened their letters, both of them reading quickly and quietly.

"What do you think it means?" Michonne stared at her letter then looked up at Rick, her face confused.

"There's only one way to find out: show up to that meetin' tonight."

"I wonder who else got an invitation."

"It said to not say anything to anyone, so I guess we'll have to find out when we get there."

Michonne nodded. "I guess we'll just have to see."

…

At eight thirty, right after dinner, Michonne and Rick headed off to Professor Dumbledore's office. They were actually a little late because Peeves held them up, until Rick cursed him.

When they entered the office it was obvious they were the last to arrive.

"Ah. And here are our Head Boy and Head Girl now," Professor Dumbledore said.

"Sorry we're late, Professor," Michonne said. "Peeves."

"It's no problem. Please have a seat." Rick and Michonne did as they were told, taking a look around at the small group of people. Rick knew a lot of them because most of them were Gryffindors, and all of them, Michonne noted, were seventh years. There was a Ravenclaw named Tyreese and a Hufflepuff named Andrea who Michonne was pretty cool with. Then there was Sasha, Morgan, Alastor Moody, Susanne Finnigan, and –

"I was hopin' you'd be here," muttered Daryl. "I'd be real disappointed if you wasn't."

"Same," Rick grinned.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and Rick and Daryl gave him their attention. "I am sure you all are wondering why I've called you all here tonight."

"Honestly, Professor," Rick stated, "at the point, I think we all just sort of go with it." The rest of the group chuckled in agreement.

"I asked you all here because I first and foremost trust you, whole-heartedly. I cannot stress how important your discretion is. Tonight is legendary. This is the official first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. It is a secret organization I have founded to fight, and hopefully, put a stop to… Lord Voldemort."

Rick tensed and Michonne shifted. The atmosphere quickly became tense.

"At this moment, I ask that if anyone wants to be excused, to do so now. Anything I say after this moment is completely confidential, and you will be signing a confidentiality form forbidding you to speak on tonight's events to _anyone_ not directly involved. Also understand that if you choose to leave, it will in no way be used against you. Just know and understand that the chances of you being invited back are slim to none. If it is your wish to leave, please do so now."

Nobody moved a muscle.

"I suspected as much. In that case…." Dumbledore waved his wand and produced a piece of paper. They went around and signed their names. "Well then." Dumbledore clasped his hands together. "Now that that's all settled, let me explain: the Order of the Phoenix is not a part of the Ministry. Is not a part of Hogwarts. It is a personal and extremely secret organization that I have founded myself. With that said… I do have a few friends in high places that are members."

At that moment a couple of people entered the room.

"I believe introductions are in order: this is Arthur Weasley. He graduated a few years ago. He is an employee of the Ministry of Magic." Arthur Weasley nodded his hello. "The other gentleman is Rubeus Hagrid. He will become the Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts next year. I trust him with my life." Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Now all of you have shown great promise these past few years. I've watched you blossom into responsible individuals. Some of you want to serve the Ministry." He glanced at Michonne and Rick. "For those of you who do, your point of contact will be Arthur Weasley. Others have asked to teach here, at Hogwarts. Your point of contact will be Hagrid." Dumbledore looked at Andrea.

"For all of you: your world is about to get a whole lot bigger. I want to be very clear what it is I am asking you to do: I am asking you to help me protect our world from Lord Voldemort. Some of you are already prepared to do that. You want to be Aurors. I am asking you to go above and beyond that. In essence, I am asking you to risk your life for the greater good. Because not all of you – not all of _us_ – are going to make it."

The silence was deafening.

"The contract you signed is in no way forcing you to stay a member of the Order. It is simply forbidding you to ever speak on it. You are free to leave whenever you want. If it becomes too much, then so be it. You have the right to walk away. There is no coming back from death."

Again, no one moved.

"I will be recruiting heavily over the next several years. Voldemort is building his army, and I will be attempting to the do the same. Only wizards of age will be allowed. If there is someone you think should be a member, come to me first. Please understand that if there is someone from school that is of age that is not here, I did not think they were a fit, and I would encourage none of you to waste your breath trying to convince me otherwise. As the school year continues, I will be meeting with you all individually. We will not meet again until the end of the school year. By then I'll have more news for you and most of you will know where you will be headed after school. I think that is all for tonight."

Everyone stood up and Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Morgan and Sasha all headed towards each other.

"Off to bed, all of you," Dumbledore stated, and they all made their way towards the door. "Everyone except you two," said Dumbledore, looking at Michonne and Rick.

"We'll catch you guys later," Michonne stated. They headed towards Professor Dumbledore.

"Rick, it is of the gravest importance that you learn your Patronus Charm. I believe that it'll be extremely useful to the Order. If your lessons with Ms. Rogers haven't helped by the time we come back from Christmas holiday, I will insist that you train with me."

Rick blushed. "Yes, Sir."

"Very well. You may wait for Ms. Rogers outside." Rick glanced at Michonne, and then made his way outside. "Ms. Rogers. I'm impressed with you. You came here, in the middle of the school year, a couple of years ago, and I have watched you grow and mature. I just feel like I have to ask… what is it you want?"

Michonne blinked at him. "I want to fight. I was to protect."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. What is it you want for _you_?"

Michonne stiffened. "I don't know."

"You better." His blue eyes twinkled, his half-moon spectacles low on his nose. "Have a good evening."

Slightly confused, her mind closed off, she nodded. "You too, Sir. Goodnight."

Outside Rick looked at her, but he must have seen on her face not to say anything, so he didn't.

"So what do you think?" asked Rick.

"I think the new world needs Rick Grimes," Michonne told him honestly.

He flashed her a smile. "It needs you too."

Michonne nodded. "I'm still with you," she assured him. "I'm ready for battle. I'm prepared for an all out war."

"That makes two of us."

* * *

A/N: So for those of you who caught it, TF attended Hogwarts the year before the Marauders entered it. Did yall catch that Mad-Eye Moody cameo as well? =]


	77. Learning to Make It

A/N: NO SPOILERS!

Well guys, most of us made it through 7x1 last night. I follow spoilers so I knew what was coming. It made it easier. **This one shot does** _ **not**_ **say who was the LV in case you haven't seen the episode**. It's just a one-shot that takes place afterwards. Speculation for how I'd rather episode have ended.

* * *

 _Continuation of 7x1. I wrote this at the end of September and it's crazy how much I wish this is how it had ended. Hopefully it'll bring us some closure._

 **LEARNING TO MAKE IT**

 **Rated T**

When Michonne stepped out of the bathroom, fresh out the shower, Rick was still in the exact same spot she had left him in. His head was bowed, his body tense, and every part of his being was strained. She stood there, for several moments, just watching him, both relieved that he was alive, and worried because he was so broken.

Eventually she walked to the dresser, pulled out one of his many shirts, and slipped it over her body.

He never moved, never looked up.

It was like he wasn't even here.

She walked to her nightstand and grabbed the small bottle of lotion. It was a miracle that they even had something like.

Everything they had was a miracle.

Now, however, half of this belonged to Negan.

She lotioned her body, understanding that Negan could own _things_ , but he would never own _her_. _She_ was off limits. No part of her was for sale.

And Rick… Rick couldn't see that right now.

Tonight had destroyed them.

It had destroyed them all, but especially Rick, who as the leader had to deal with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

She wasn't sure he would ever come back from this.

He _could_ come back. Oh yes. But if he could… if he could find the strength to pick up the pieces… well, that had yet to be seen.

She believed in him.

He just had to remember how to believe in himself.

They had lost twp of their own tonight. He would never forget that. None of them would, but especially Rick.

She finished lotioning herself and turned to face Rick.

He still hadn't moved.

She didn't know how to help him. She'd never seen him wallow so deeply in self-pity. He wouldn't speak to anyone, not even her, and it was difficult, because if there was anyone he could normally talk to, it was her.

So she did the only thing that she though was appropriate: she climbed into bed, her tee shirt rising, and she made her way over to Rick. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his back, and then his neck, ignoring the way he stiffened at her touch.

After a few seconds his body relaxed to her touch, but stayed as tense as it was before.

"I don't know what to say," was all Rick said, and his voice was raw, whether from tears or screams, or both, Michonne didn't know. "How can you even stand to look at me?"

Michonne shrugged softly. "I love you," and that seemed like a simple enough answer.

He jerked in her arms and turned to look at her. His eyes were bloodshot, and filled with more pain than she'd ever seen. She felt her heart break, but she kept her eyes locked to his, a sea of blue against dark brown.

She'd never said the words before, nor had he. They never needed to. In essence they knew.

But she knew that he needed to hear it, and she felt like it was the perfect time to tell him. His eyes searched hers for several seconds, and behind the sadness she could see the shock and surprise.

"I love you," she repeated firmly. "And we'll get through this, like we've gotten through everything else."

Rick shook his head. "I don't know if we can overcome this, Michonne." He finally looked away from her, his shoulders hunched, and Michonne tightened her grip. "We should do what he says." This time Michonne tensed, and he looked at her again. "Cause I love you too, and if anything ever happened to you… or Carl and Judith….." His eyes glassed over for a few seconds. "I won't be able to come back from that. I won't. Not ever. So we gotta do whatever it takes, cause I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Michonne inhaled sharply. "Whatever happens, I got you, Rick. Always." She kissed him, and she let him hold on to her, because he needed to.

They would get through this.

They didn't have a choice.


	78. Home for the Holidays

_Prompt—"I like your stories. Possible Prompt (not sure if this has been done already): Rick Grimes is a divorced, father of two and sheriff from King County, who brings his city girlfriend Michonne (who happens to be beautiful, and completely different from his previous partner) back to his small town for the weekend to meet friends, colleagues and family for the first time." –Just Me_

 _Changed it up just a little: in my mind, Rick no longer lives in KC but he lives in the city. In this one-shot, we find out Michonne is Black lol._

 **HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS**

 **Rated K**

Rick pulled into the driveway, turning off the engine.

"We're here!" Carl exclaimed, and before anyone knew it, him and Judith were out of the car and running up the front porch of the large house. Rick's eyes followed them, shaking his head softly.

He turned and stared at Michonne, who stared straight ahead. She hadn't moved a muscle since they'd pulled into the driveway.

He reached over and gently grabbed her hand. "You ready?" he asked softly.

She turned and looked at him, her eyes darker than ever. "Not really," admitted Michonne honestly.

Rick arched an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

"Do your parents know I'm Black?" The way her eyes fluttered closed was proof that she had blurted out the words and hadn't meant to say them. When she met Rick's blue eyes his were filled with amusement.

"Are you Black? I had no idea."

"Rick I'm _serious_ ," whispered Michonne furiously.

Rick sighed and removed his hand. "Michonne…."

"No, you don't get it."

"I met your parents for Thanksgiving and it was _fine_. Now you're meetin' mine for Christmas. What's so different?"

"Rick, we went to _Atlanta_. This is King's County. It's a small town. Tell me how many Black people you grew up with who didn't play on the football or basketball team. Don't worry, I'll wait."

"Hey you went to Spelman for Undergrad _and_ Howard's Law School. _You_ tell _me_ how many white friends you had before you joined your law firm last year."

Michonne took a deep breath. He had a point. "I'm just nervous," Michonne sighed.

"We've been dating for a year and a half. I love you, and I'm sure my parents will love you too. They're not gonna care that you're Black."

"Rick, _I_ care that I'm Black. I don't want it ignored, I just don't want it to be an issue. I'm a Black woman. That matters to me. It'll matter to our future child, when we have one…." She sighed again. "Let's just… get this over with."

Rick chuckled. "It'll be okay, I promise. My parents know I'm happy. Carl and Judith are happy. All that will make them happy."

"I just don't want it to be awkward. I'm really not into going through what Ashton Kutcher went through in _Guess Who_."

Rick snorted. "C'mon. Let's go."

…

Carl and Judith had left the door wide open, so slipping his free hand into Michonne's, Rick led his way into the house. Michonne took in the beautiful and traditional decorations. The house was stunning, and Michonne could feel the warmth and love.

It was very similar to her parent's.

Rick led her to the living room, where the majority of the people were. Most of the attention was on Carl and Judith, figuring they hadn't been by for a while. They'd spent Thanksgiving in Atlanta, meeting Michonne's family, and between school and friends and growing up, visiting the grandparents wasn't exactly high on the priority list.

Since the kids had all the attention, it was a minute or two before anyone noticed Rick and Michonne standing there.

When an older woman with grey hair saw them Michonne held her breath. She pictured the entire family, one by one, turning towards them and everyone falling silent.

Except that didn't happen.

The grey hair woman gasped and said, "Rick!" and all the attention went from Carl and Judith to them. Everyone headed towards them, smiles on their faces, and a tall, salt-and-peppered haired man reached Michonne first.

"You must be Michonne." His voice was warm, his Southern drawl thick, and he made her name sound like something exotic.

"And you must be Rick's father," smiled Michonne.

"What gave it away?"

"He's a spitting image," Michonne stated. "Except for the eyes."

"I have my mother's eyes," interrupted Rick, having heard it most of his life.

At that moment a dark haired woman with astonishing blue eyes stepped forward, her eyes bright.

"Michonne Rogers." She pulled Michonne into a warm hug, kissing both of her cheeks. "I think it's safe to assume it'll be Grimes soon." She dropped her voice considerably. "I know the look in my son's eyes. He's smitten."

" _Mother_ ," blushed Rick.

Mrs. Grimes stared at her son, her blue eyes twinkling. "Rick, why don't you put your gifts under the tree and go in the living room with your father and have drinks?" She turned to Michonne. "I'd like to take you into the kitchen, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Michonne said, at ease. "I brought a bottle of red. Rick said it's your favorite."

Mrs. Grimes took the bottle, looking it over. "It is. Thank you. We can have a drink while we talk." Michonne nodded. Mrs. Grimes led her to the kitchen and the two of them walked forward, Michonne glancing behind her. A few women followed behind them.

At the last moment Rick grabbed her hand. Michonne looked at him, an eyebrow raised. She smiled, and he gave her a nod, and Michonne made her way into the kitchen.

…

"Everyone… _this_ is Michonne," Mrs. Grimes said to the women in the kitchen.

She saw the few flickers of surprise, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. In fact, it was safe to say she was used to it. It was the same look of surprise she got when she made her way into the courtroom when she had an important case.

The people at her job had learned. So would these people.

"Well Rick certainly downplayed your beauty," one woman said. "What did he say when he first told us about Michonne?"

Mrs. Grimes laughed. "He said that he had met the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen." She looked at Michonne. "We didn't take him seriously, but we should have. You are breath-taking."

Michonne was about to respond when someone else spoke. "Never mind your beauty," the young girl said. "All I care about is Rick not getting hurt again."

Suddenly the energy in the kitchen shifted.

"I'm Sophia," said the girl.

"Sophia," Michonne nodded. "Of course. You're Rick's favorite cousin."

"Yah. Look, Rick and I go way back. He's only a year older than me. My mom and his mom are sisters – my mom's older, but only by a few years. They were close, as are me and Rick. Lori wasn't shit, and he doesn't need to ever go through that again."

"Watch your language in my house, Sophia." Mrs. Grimes' voice held a hint of finality that Michonne respected.

"Look, I know Rick's been through a lot. We both have. But I love him very much, and he loves me. But even more than that, I respect Rick. We get each other. What we have… it's different."

Mrs. Grimes nodded. "That's the same thing he said. Rick loved Lori. But they were kids. He never really gave himself time to explore the world, figure out what it is he wanted. He was just a small town boy, who met a girl, and thought he was supposed to marry her. Leaving King's County was good for him. You're the first girl he's bought home, and it's been, what, seven years or so? I've gotta tell you… I've never seen Rick like this. So yah… I'd say it's different all right." She stared at Michonne. "It's a good different."

Michonne smiled. "Yes it is."

…

Michonne stood around the island, showing them all how to make her infamous banana pudding. "And now you just let it sit in the fridge for a few hours and, _voila_."

"It looks too good to wait a couple of hours," Sophia stated. Michonne laughed.

"It's Andre's favorite dessert."

"Andre must be your son," figured Mrs. Grimes.

"Yes."

"I was hoping to meet him. Rick mentions him now and then."

"He's currently with his grandparents, but I'd love for you to meet him soon." And she found that she meant it.

"It'd be an honor," Mrs. Grimes smiled. "Now I take it you've met Lori?"

Michonne stared into her eyes, and nodded. "Yes. When Rick and I realized that we were serious… that we had a future, I wanted to sit down with Lori. I wanted her to be comfortable with me being around Carl and Judith."

"Did she meet with you?" And Mrs. Grimes couldn't exactly hide the annoyance in her voice.

"After a few months, when she realized I wasn't going to give up."

"How'd you convince her?" asked Sophia.

Michonne smiled darkly. "Showed up at her job in the middle of the work day, spilled some legal bullshit that wasn't even halfway true, and convinced her to see the light."

"Cunning and smart. I like that." Michonne winked at Mrs. Grimes.

"We're okay now. I think she realizes that I am going to be around for a long time – forever, if I have anything to say about it – and that I'm going to help raise her children. I think she resented me at first."

"Because she wants Rick back?"

"No. I think she's made peace with the fact that they won't get back together. I think she was somewhat jealous of my relationship with Carl and Judith. But I told her that I would never be able to take her place, and had no intention of doing so. I love Carl and Judith, but Lori is their mother. I go along with decisions Lori and Rick make for them."

"I think you'll make an excellent step-mother one day," grinned Mrs. Grimes. "Hopefully one day soon."

At that moment Rick walked in. The kitchen got silent.

"Jus' checkin' in on you," Rick said, walking up to Michonne and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

"I'm fine," blushed Michonne, her eyes darting to Mrs. Grimes.

"You're more'n fine," Rick whispered not so quietly.

Michonne snorted. "I think you've had enough to drink."

"Probably." Rick buried his face in her neck.

"Rick, you do realize we're in the kitchen with your _mother_ , right?"

"Oh. Right." Still, he kept his lips on her neck for a few more seconds. "Guess I should go then."

"Please."

"Fine. I can tell when I'm not wanted." He stood up, and looked at everyone in the kitchen. "How much longer before dinner's ready?"

"You can set the table, Son."

"Thank the good Lord." Rick disappeared to the dining room, Michonne avoiding everyone's eyes.

"He's smitten," said Mrs. Grimes.

"He's got it really, _really_ bad," Sophia agreed. She smiled at Michonne. "Welcome to the family."

Michonne smiled. It felt good to be home.

* * *

A/N: This SO go me in the mood for CHRISTmas. I'm SO down for some CHRISTmas prompts. I have a few Halloween stories I'll be posting coming up in honor of that holiday. Nothing major.


	79. Halloween Party

_It's a Halloween fic, so naturally, it's A/U LOL._

 **HALLOWEEN OFFICE PARTY**

 **Rated M for a one-night stand**

The party was in full swing when Michonne arrived. She _hated_ being late, but Andre was in a mood and didn't want to take a bath, and then her baby-sitter was late, thus putting her behind schedule.

She walked inside the precinct, a lot of her colleague's eyes on her once the door opened. She saw the flickers of surprise in their eyes at the sight of her – whether it was her costume or the fact that she was here, she didn't know.

She'd only been employed by the King County's Sherriff's Department for a year, and Michonne was more than sure that tonight she didn't look the part of the departmental psychologist.

Not in her hot, mostly revealing Jessica Rabbit costume.

It was daring to wear, with its deep, sequenced, strapless red hue hugging every curve and leaving very little to the imagination. The signature slit in the costume revealed long, toned, dark legs, lean from years of swimming. She had the arms to match. She knew her body was damn near perfect, and she worked hard to make sure she kept it up.

She nodded softly at the stares and stepped into the office. There was music blasting, people dancing, and drinks pouring. The office was decorated accordingly: there were orange and black streamers hanging everywhere, along with decorations of skeletons, black cats, and zombies. Spiders hung from the ceiling, along with skulls, and Michonne realized that whoever decorated was talented.

Michonne made her way to the mini bar, a familiar face approaching her.

"You made it," grinned Sasha.

Michonne smiled easily at Commander Jones' wife. "I see you did too."

"Yah, well, Morgan insisted we come," Sasha said. "Nice costume."

"You too. Princess Tiana is one of my favorite Disney princesses."

At that moment they reached the bar. "Hey, Bob," Sasha said. "I'll have Malibu and pineapple, and Michonne will have…?"

"I'll take the same." Bob nodded and started on their drinks.

"Dr. Rogers," said a familiar voice, and Michonne spun around, her mouth open in shock.

"Agent Rovia," she breathed, and then her eyes caught who he was standing next to. Her heartbeat quickened. "Officer Grimes." She hoped he didn't hear the catch in her voice as she said his name. For that matter she hoped no one did.

Rick gave her a soft smile and nodded at her, his half full glass raising to her in greeting. "Dr. Rogers." Rick's voice was soft as he spoke to her.

"I'm not your psychologist anymore. You may call me Michonne." Rick gave her a shy smile and Michonne turned back to Rovia. "What are you doing here?"

"Rick and I go way back," he admitted. "I was in town and wanted to see him, and he told me about the Halloween party. I thought it sounded fun. You know we don't get a lot of fun in the Bureau."

"You two know each other?" asked Rick.

"Oh, yes," Jesus said before Michonne could respond. "Before she was your department shrink, she used to work for the FBI." Rick couldn't quite hide his surprise as he stared at her.

"What made you leave a good job like that to work for a small county jail?"

Fortunately, she was saved from answering. At that moment Aaron, the media liaison, asked them all to pose for a picture. Sasha, Bob, Michonne, Rick, and Jesus all posed, Rick's hand making their way to her waist.

She tried not to stiffen at his touch.

Once the picture was snapped Michonne turned back to Jesus. "I certainly do miss everyone, Agent Rovia."

"We're no longer colleagues. If Rick can call you Michonne, surely you can call me Jesus."

"I've been calling you Agent Rovia for so long…."

"Hey, we're in the middle of a party. We don't need to be so formal. We're supposed to be celebrating." Jesus looked at Rick, who grimaced. "You gave us quite a scare there."

"Hell yah he did." They all turned to see Daryl, dressed as a motorcyclist. "If he had died after that shootout, I'd have killed him."

"It was one of the worst phone calls of my life," agreed Jesus, nodding.

"But now he's back, thanks to Michonne," Daryl said.

"He's back because he's a damned good officer, and he passed. My job was easy because he made it easy." Rick and Michonne stared at each other for several seconds, seemingly forgetting anyone else was there.

"Well I'm glad you have a clean bill of health." Jesus's voice brought them back to reality. "Now I can continue trying to recruit you."

Michonne's eyebrows rose up to her hairline.

Rick laughed. "He's been tryin' to get me to join the Bureau for years, and I always turn him down. I like bein' here. I like my job."

"You don't think this town is too small?" Jesus asked much too casually.

Rick frowned and turned his head slightly, briefly glancing at his ex-partner and his ex-wife. "I'm not leavin'," was all he said, and then he tossed back the rest of his drink and sat it down none too gently on the bar.

Michonne watched him walk away, his body tense, and she thought about going after him, but that would be breaking every single one of her rules. She thought maybe it didn't matter, and might have actually followed him, if Bob hadn't handed them their drinks.

Michonne was well passed tipsy when she finally saw Rick again. She was on the dance floor, having just finished dancing with Tyreese, when suddenly Rick was in her arms.

She held her breath, grateful that he couldn't see the blush rising in her face.

"Officer Grimes," she said.

He arched an eyebrow. "If I get to call you Michonne, maybe you could call me Rick?"

"Rick," breathed Michonne softly, his name tasting amazing on her lips.

 _What_ was _wrong_ with her? _Get a grip, girl_ , she told herself.

She looked at him, her dark eyes meeting his bright ones. It made her mouth go dry.

Or maybe it was the way he pulled her to him, his hands resting on her waist, her arms sliding around his neck. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized they were too close. Much too close.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you how amazin' your costume is. You make one beautiful Jessica Rabbit." She could smell the whiskey on his breath, and it was intoxicating.

Michonne noted how he used the word beautiful, as opposed to sexy like everyone else had.

"Thank you." She looked him over. "I have to say, I find yours extremely amusing. Seeing you as Woody from Toy Story…." She smiled as he blushed. "But isn't that sort of cheating? I mean you two already have so much in common I don't think it's a stretch."

"Do you know how long it took me to get this outfit together? I might wear it again next year jus' for all the trouble it was."

"It looks good on you." The admission fell easily from her lips, but she cringed nonetheless. "That was extremely inappropriate."

"Was it? Cus I'm pretty sure everyone's been complimentin' everyone on each other's costumes all night."

Michonne dropped her arms and stopped dancing. "It's different for us, don't you think?"

It was the first time either of them had admitted anything aloud.

"Michonne—"

"Rick, whatever _this_ is… whatever tension this is… I could lose my license, and it would jeopardize you being reinstated as an officer of the law."

"What if I don't care?" She heard the stubbornness in his voice and frowned when he took her arms and placed them back around his neck.

"You should care. What you went through… getting shot, and then being in a coma for all those weeks… it was traumatizing. We went through a year of counseling to make sure you were ready for this. You really want to lose all that because of some unresolved sexual tension between us?"

"It's more'n that and you know it."

"Rick, six months ago you were determined to work it out with Lori." Her voice was cold as she spoke those words, and she felt guilty, using his sessions with her against him.

It worked, though. He stiffened and dropped his arms from her waist.

"We had a family. I had to at least _try_. It doesn't take away how I felt about you. How I _feel_."

"How you feel would make us lose our jobs." Her voice was firm and she stared at him with eyes that she _hoped_ wouldn't give her away. "I have to go."

She left him then, left him in the middle of the dance floor, and made her way to the bathroom, where she willed herself to calm down. She forced a smile at a woman dressed as Alice from Alice in Wonderland and made her way into a stall, telling herself to take deep breaths.

She might have been okay if he hadn't entered the bathroom.

"Rick," she started to say, but before she could go off on him, he grabbed her and kissed her, hard.

Everything came crashing down in that moment.

This… was not right. It was wrong, for so many reasons, but it felt so _good_ , his strong mouth on hers, firm and demanding, almost challenging her to resist.

Later on she would claim she would never remember how her panties came off, how his pants lowered, how his shirt came off. She just remembered the kiss, and then she was pinned against the bathroom stall and he was sliding in and out of her, his thrusts deep and quick, and had her unraveling within minutes.

She clawed at his back, pulling him closer by locking her legs around his waist. She threw her head back, meeting his thrusts almost desperately, giving in to the desires she'd felt for the past several months.

She heard some sort of noise, a buzzing, and she realized, after several moments, that it was him, chanting her name in her ear. His mouth was hot on hers, and she responded fervently, still trying to pull him in deeper, get him closer.

Her next orgasm had her screaming, loudly, and thank _God_ for the music blaring outside, otherwise everyone would know, and it's not like she even cared because he felt _so good_ inside of her.

The third time she came she clenched so tightly around him that he cursed and followed suit, his hips jerking into hers with harsh passion.

It took several moments for them to untangle from each other.

"Oh my God," Michonne whispered as she came down from her high. "Oh my God. We are in so much _shit_." She immediately started fixing her dress and hair, her hands trembling as she attempted to put back on her underwear.

"Michonne, relax." He pulled up his pants.

"Relax? _Relax_? Do you know what we just did?"

Rick smirked. "Yah, I'm pretty sure."

"It's not funny. I could be fired for that."

"Would you like me to quit?" Michonne stopped and stared at him as he pulled his undershirt back over his head and grabbed his yellow button-up.

"You love being a cop."

"Look, Michonne… whatever this is… it's – it's different."

Michonne's mouth went dry. She stared at him for a few mores seconds before shaking her head.

"I have to go," was all she said, and then she brushed passed him and was gone.

…

Michonne unpacked the last thing from her box and sighed, staring at the photo she had taken on Halloween night. Sasha had given it to her as a parting gift. She didn't know why she bought it with her.

Well, that wasn't exactly true. She stared at Rick, her fingers brushing his face.

She didn't know she could miss someone so much, even after six months.

She sat the photo down on her desk – her _old_ desk – and looked around.

For the most part, her old office at the Bureau looked the same.

Except for her. _She_ was different.

She pushed that though aside and grabbed the box, preparing to take it out. When she got back to her office she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Oh, here she is," Agent Harrison said. "Dr. Rogers, this Agent Grimes. Agent Grimes, this is Dr. Rogers. She'll be the one evaluating you before you officially become an Agent." Andrea turned to Michonne. "He'll be at the Virginia branch, and partners with Agent Rovia."

Michonne barely heard her.

"Put in a transfer. I already know him." Michonne's voice was measured, and she never took her eyes off of Rick. His face was set, his eyes unreadable.

"Oh." Andrea looked between them. "Okay. Let me talk to Agent Monroe. I'll be right back."

The second she was gone Michonne closed her door.

"You came back _here_?" Rick whispered furiously.

"What the hell are you doing here?" whispered Michonne just as furiously, at the same time.

The two of them stared at each other.

"You're saying you didn't know I had come back to the FBI?" asked Michonne.

"How the hell would I know that? You left without so much as a goodbye."

"I _couldn't_ say goodbye," Michonne told him. "If I did I'd have never left."

Rick stared at her. "How do you work for the FBI and still be a coward?"

Michonne felt like Rick had slapped her. She turned away from him, walking towards her large window. "What made you finally take Jesus up on his offer? And why the _hell_ didn't he tell me?"

"He doesn't know. He jus' thinks he's gettin' a new partner. I wanted to surprise him." Rick paused. "Guess he ain't the only one."

"Guess not."

Rick was quiet for several moments, and eventually he stood next to her at the window. "I came cus I needed to get out of King's County. Everything reminded me of you… of us."

She wanted to tell him there was no _us_ , but it'd be a lie, and they both knew it.

One time and she was a goner.

"At least we don't have to see each other. You work at the DC branch, I'm in Alexandria. We'll probably never run into each other."

Michonne sighed. "I have lunch with Jesus every Friday. He stops by every morning before he heads to his office in Virginia. If you're his partner… I'll see you."

"Look, I offered to quit once. I'm not doin' it again."

"I don't want you to quit," sighed Michonne.

"So what do we do?"

"We can go to Senior Agent Monroe, tell her the truth."

Rick stared at her. "You wanna tell our boss that we fucked in a bathroom last Halloween?"

Michonne felt her face warm. "I want to tell our boss that we're two colleagues who are attracted to each other, and we wanted to be open and honest with her."

Rick blinked at her for several seconds, and then he gave her a slow smile.

"Well all right then," Rick said, nodding. He chuckled and Michonne arched an eyebrow.

"What's so funny?"

"Jus' thinkin' back to that night. I had assumed that I was bein' tricked. Maybe it was a treat after all."

Michonne grinned. "Maybe it was."


	80. Another Life

_Same Universe as "The Sherriff and the Counselor." (Chapter 44)._

 **ANOTHER LIFE**

 **Rated T**

Michonne walked into the house, swinging the door open, a bag of groceries in one hand her briefcase in the other. "I'm home," she called out, and then the crew came flying towards her: Carl reached her first, having grown taller since she'd dropped him off at school this morning; Andre ran up to her, holding on to her leg, his toddler height making him reach her knees. Rick rounded the corner next, Judith in his arms, a smile on her face.

"You're late," he said softly, and then greeted her with a firm kiss.

He was worried, Michonne noticed. "I know, I'm so sorry," said Michonne breathlessly, her fingers running through Andre's curls. Carl grabbed the bag of groceries from her. "Thank you." She turned back to Rick. "My phone died, and then my car charger stopped working so I had to pick up another one, and then I went grocery shopping…."

Rick nodded. "Are there more bags in the car?"

"A ton."

He nodded again. "Well rest your feet and take Judith." Rick handed Judith to Michonne, who giggled. "Carl," called Rick.

"Coming!" Carl rounded the corner and headed outside, Rick following behind him.

Michonne reached out and touched his forearm. "I really am sorry. Verizon is right next to the grocery story so after I got a new charger I immediately went there, and you know the store's only a few miles away from home."

"I know," Rick said, looking at her. "I jus' worry…. You see the things you see in my line of work sometimes…."

"Mine too," said Michonne softly.

"Yah, well, you're home now. That's all that matters." He leaned in for another kiss and Michonne met him half way.

"I think I can make it up to you."

"How's that?" asked Rick.

"I took a little detour on my lunch break today," Michonne whispered. "There's a bag in the backseat that I think you'll find… interesting. I know Halloween's coming up. I thought you'd enjoy playing… dress up."

Rick gave Michonne a slow grin as he looked her over. She gave him a smile until Andre tugged on her pants. She looked down at him and then looked back up at Rick.

"Later," he told her.

"You can count on it."

Rick chuckled and made his way out of the door and Michonne motioned for Andre to follow her as they all made their way to the living room.

"What were you guys doing while I was at work?" Michonne glanced at the television. "Of course. Why am I not surprised? Call of Duty." She shook her head as she noticed the two remotes. "Carl's homework better had gotten done," Michonne told Judith and Andre, "or your father will be getting a completely different surprise tonight."

Judith laughed and Andre chimed in, as if they could both understand her, and Michonne smiled at them both, sitting on the couch and picking Andre up so that both babies were in her lap. She nuzzled their necks and then both of them rested their heads on her shoulder, almost at the same time.

When Carl and Rick finally came back in, several bags of groceries in their hands, they found Michonne with her arms around them.

"I see a lot of decorations in these bags," commented Rick. "I thought you actually got _groceries_."

"There is a ton of food in those bags," Michonne said. "But yes, there are also Halloween decorations." She smiled at Carl.

"I thought you didn't celebrate Halloween?" asked Carl.

"Black Christians don't," Michonne laughed. "Let any of us tell you, it's the Devil's holiday, and we don't play that. We go to church on Halloween." Judith reached out for Carl and he reached and grabbed her. "But I know Lori will be out of town, and that you guys go trick-or-treating every year, so I thought it'd be fun."

"Awesome!" Carl said. "I am _so_ down. I think I wanna be a one-eyed zombie slayer."

Michonne and Rick just looked at him.

"What? It'd be cool. Like what if we lived in a zombie apocalypse?"

"Honestly, where do you come up with these things?" asked Rick, sitting down next to Michonne, the Victoria's Secret bag in his hand.

"Just think about it for a second. It'd be so cool."

"Would it?" Michonne asked, clearly skeptical. "And why do you only have one eye?"

Carl shrugged. "I don't know, maybe it got shot out or something." Carl turned to his dad. "What are you gonna be?"

Rick shrugged. "I guess I'll still be a cop or somethin'. Maybe a constable. I'll assume we'd find a small town or community to settle down in, and I'd run that town for a while."

"We could get your old Sherriff's uniform out," grinned Michonne.

"Would you be my partner?"

Michonne shrugged. "Maybe. I think I'd rather be a katana slaying Queen of the Apocalypse."

"That sounds so bad ass," exclaimed Carl.

"Language," Rick warned.

"Sorry. I got excited."

"What about Sasha?" asked Michonne. "She was thinking about coming with us. She misses you guys."

"Aunt Sasha could be a sniper!" Michonne nodded, impressed. "This'll be the best Halloween ever! Can you guys imagine us as we walk down the street? I'll wear a bandage over my eye, I'll have a gun…. Dad can I wear your old Sherriff's hat?"

Rick shrugged. "Sure. I suspect in an apocalypse I won't be wearin' it anymore."

"So I'll wear your hat. You can wear your old uniform, with your Colt Python. Michonne, you should wear a cop outfit too, with a sword on your back. Aunt Sasha can wear Uncle Abe's dress blue's with a machine gun over her shoulder…."

"You really have this all planned out," Rick noted.

"Everyone except Judith and Andre," responded Carl.

"Are there babies in the apocalypse?" Michonne wondered.

"If you and I are in the apocalypse, there are babies," whispered Rick.

"Oh come on," Carl whined with a sigh. Michonne and Rick laughed. "Get a room."

"We plan to, thanks," grinned Rick.

"I'll start putting up the groceries." With those words Carl headed towards the kitchen, several groceries in his hand. He left the bags full of Halloween decorations on the floor in the living room. Rick waited until Carl was out of earshot before motioning towards the bag. "Now about this…."

"Did Carl finish his homework?" asked Michonne.

"Of course."

"Good," Michonne grinned. "Because I definitely planned to take full advantage of what's in that bag tonight."

Andre shifted in Michonne's lap and then motioned that he wanted to get down, as if he didn't want to hear this kind of talk. He walked off to presumably join Carl and Judith in the kitchen.

"So Carl seems excited about Halloween."

"His imagination tends to run wild," Rick nodded. Then he looked at her, suddenly serious. "Do you think we'd still have met, even in the apocalypse?"

Michonne smiled softly. "I absolutely do. I don't know if the circumstances would be the same…."

"Probably not," laughed Rick. "What are the chances of us meetin' at a prison?"

"Our paths might not have ever crossed, otherwise."

"Yah, all on account of your research project. You, havin' to interview a sociopath who went around carryin' heads in a fish tank in his trunk."

"And you, deciding to get your mind off of your divorce, deciding to ride up to the prison with Daryl to visit his brother."

"I saw you from a mile away," Rick said softly.

"You just stared," laughed Michonne, "for what felt like hours."

"Yah, well, you stared back."

"It was fate," Michonne told him. "So yes, I absolutely think we would have met in an apocalypse, somehow, someway. We were destined, whether it's for this life, or another life, I was always yours, and you were always mine."

Rick leaned in for another kiss and Michonne responded.

"I'll go put the decorations in the closet," Rick told her, standing. "I'm feelin' Chinese tonight, what do you think?"

"Long as I can have a glass of wine, I don't care," responded Michonne. "And another kiss."

Rick bent down and kissed her again, his lips familiar.

She watched as he walked away, a grin on her lips. She loved that man. It didn't matter what world they were in, what timeframe, which life. They'd always find each other, she was sure of it.


	81. Halloween Night

A/N: Happy Halloween! I went as a modern Snow White (well, Snow Black I guess LOL). I was also IN ATLANTA this past weekend, because I went to the Walker Stalker Con andddddd I MET SONEQUA MARTIN-GREEN (Sasha) and DANAI GURIRA (MICHONNE)! Ahhhhhhh omg omg omg. They were BOTH life to the fullest. I am so happy I went.

What were some of your Halloween costumes?

* * *

 _Another Halloween fic_

 **HALLOWEEN NIGHT**

 **Rated K**

"Would you hurry up?" Sasha asked. "Stop pouting. Mike was a loser of a boyfriend."

"A loser boyfriend who dumped _me_ ," muttered Michonne.

"Because you kept going off on him for getting high. He was jealous of you and didn't know how to cope with your success. He was weak." Michonne kept quiet and Sasha stopped and stared at her best friend. "Look… if you wanna be miserable without Mike… fine. You two were together for a long time. I understand that. But tonight's Halloween, okay? For one night you get to be someone else, and it's okay. You're currently dressed as Queen Nefertiti. Be great tonight."

Michonne stared at Sasha, who was currently dressed as Angela Davis, a large Afro on her head, a Black Panther Party uniform on her body.

"You're right. We are Black Girl Magic," nodded Michonne. "Not just tonight, but always."

"Not to mention Care Free Black girls who are graduating from Spelman next semester."

They continued walking towards the frat house on Morehouse Campus, Michonne's heels echoing on the pavement. The dark campus was pretty deserted figuring the party had started about an hour ago.

Michonne was beginning to think it was kind of creepy. An eerie silence was just starting to seep in when she started hearing the music from the party. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief and Michonne and Sasha made their way to the source of the noise.

The party was packed, which didn't surprise either of them. This party was legendary. The decorations were terrifying and it was hard to see with all the smoke machines.

Sasha slipped her hand into Michonne's and together they made their way to the kitchen, which they knew was where the majority of their friends would probably be.

Sure enough everyone was there, crowded around the island: Sasha's brother, Tyreese, Bob, T-Dog, Scott, and –

Sasha squealed and let go of Michonne's hand, and damn near sailed into the air to jump into Morgan's arms.

"Oh my God! What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Like I was gonna miss the party of the century," grinned Morgan. Morgan had graduated last year and he and Sasha had dated for a couple years. They broke up when Morgan graduated but they still talked almost every day. Michonne was personally convinced that the two of them would get married. Sasha hadn't gotten with anyone else, and as far as she knew, neither had Morgan.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"Maybe I wanted to surprise you," he said. He gently put her down, looking her over. "Nice costume."

"Thanks," said Sasha softly. They stared at each other for a few seconds before a guy shifted next to Morgan. Sasha stared at him quizzically. "Who's the white guy?"

Morgan arched an eyebrow. "This is Rick Grimes. Rick, this is Sasha, and that's Michonne," pointed Morgan.

Rick nodded at Sasha, but his eyes rested on Michonne. "Ma'am."

She looked him over, her eyes taking in every detail: shockingly thick, black curly hair that framed his face perfectly, bright blue eyes that sparkled, and a face made from Greek gods.

Michonne felt a fluttering in her stomach and her face heating up.

Sasha's eyebrows rose to her hairline. " _Ma'am_?" She turned to Morgan. "Where'd you find him?"

"I'm from King's County," he said, his southern drawl thick.

"Well now you're in Atlanta. What in the hell possessed you to wear a cop uniform at a time like this?"

Rick cringed but before he could respond Morgan spoke. "Rick is training with me at the Academy. He had the late shift tonight and I didn't give him an option to go home and change. I thought his uniform would pass as a costume – which it has – and that the 'costume' would be okay, but he's been getting dirty looks all night. I was just about to take him upstairs to see if one of my neo's had something he could wear."

Sasha nodded. "I think that's a good idea." Sasha glanced at Rick. "No offense."

"None taken. I get it. Things are tense right now. I'm hopin' Morgan and I can change that, but for what it's worth… I doubt King's County will prove to be any trouble. Mostly we'll have the authority to break up fist fights."

Sasha and Michonne laughed.

"You're pretty funny, Grimes," commented Sasha. She eyed Morgan. "Go ahead and get him changed. I get the feeling he'll show us a good time once he's out of that uniform."

Morgan nodded and motioned for Rick to follow him.

He did, glancing one last time at Michonne, their eyes locking.

Her stomach swooped until he was out of sight.

…

Rick came back downstairs in a black suit and tie, and a pair of dark shades on his face. Michonne couldn't help but smile. The Men in black. _Classic_.

" _Much_ better," Sasha declared, and Rick nodded, though his blue eyes rested on Michonne. She nodded her agreement and he smiled.

Michonne felt her stomach swoop _again_ and she looked away.

"Shots, anyone?" asked Michonne.

"You two were late," T-Dogg said. "We've already started."

"Guess we'll have to catch up then," stated Sasha, and she headed to the bar, bringing back a bottle of tequila.

"You would go for the worst thing in the world," Michonne muttered, but nonetheless, the two girls clinked glasses and threw back a few shots, the boys joining in on the last round.

Michonne _hated_ tequila, but it got her buzzed the fastest. It was her last year of college. She might as well live it up.

"Now that that's settled, why don't we head to the dance floor?" asked Sasha. Before anyone could object Sasha grabbed Michonne and Morgan and they elbowed their way through the crowd.

Sasha and Michonne danced together for several songs, Michonne noting that Rick was watching her out the corner of his eye. After several songs she approached him.

"Are you just going to watch me all night, or you going to actually ask me to dance?" She was pretty sure it was the tequila talking and not her. She wasn't shy _per say_ , but normally she let the guy approach her.

He blushed, looking sheepish. "I don't dance," he told her. "Trust me, if I could, I'd have asked you seven songs ago."

At that moment Tyreese came up to them. "Jello shots," he declared.

"Not me," said Morgan, "I'm the DD." He turned to Rick. "Rick can have mine since he's getting a free ride."

"Hey, you practically kidnapped me, I didn't _ask_ to come."

"I was tired of you mopin' around because your ex-girlfriend hooked up with your best friend."

"She wasn't my _ex_ when she hooked up with him," Rick pointed out.

"Well, it's time to get over her. Michonne and her boyfriend just broke up too. Why don't you two get acquainted?"

"We were tryin' before Tyreese interrupted us." At his words Rick blushed. "At least… I mean…" he glanced at Michonne.

"We were definitely interrupted," Michonne said, and he visibly relaxed. She looked at him for a few seconds. "You wanna get out of here? Get some fresh air?"

Rick flashed her a smile. "I'd love to," replied Rick.

Michonne and Rick walked outside, ignoring the stares of all of her friends.

She never saw Sasha turn to Morgan, or heard Sasha say, "Okay, you were right. They hit it off."

Morgan laughed. "I think that means you owe me a date."

Sasha glanced once more at Rick and Michonne as they made their way outside. "Maybe we can double date."


	82. Visiting Hilltop

_Michonne's not feeling well. Don't ask me when this takes place LOL._

 **VISITING THE HILLTOP**

 **Rated M for a quickie**

Rick held Michonne's hair as she threw up. Exhausted she slumped against the toilet, and then with shaking hands grabbed the paper towel that Rick handed to her. She wiped her mouth and clumsily stood up, immediately washing her hands and grabbing the nearly empty bottle of mouthwash.

She avoided Rick's eyes as she finished cleaning herself up and heading back to bed.

"Michonne." Rick's voice was already taking on that tone, that edge that proved he wouldn't be ignored. She turned to face him and found him standing at the bathroom door, his arms folded across his chest. "We're going."

"Rick, no," sighed Michonne.

He stared at her. "You promised."

Michonne sighed again. She _had_ promised. She swore if she didn't get better by the end of the week they could visit Hilltop and meet with Dr. Carson. She understood his worry. The last time people got sick it was an epidemic. They had lost a lot of good people. She had to think of Carl and Judith… _Rick_.

"Fine. But I can go myself."

"Not a chance in hell," Rick said. Michonne sighed. "Get dressed. I'm gonna go get the RV—"

"We don't need the RV—"

"And then we'll be on our way," continued Rick as if Michonne hadn't spoken. Michonne watched him go, shaking her head. This was ridiculous. She felt like a child. So she had been throwing up for the past week. She probably ate something bad. It wasn't a big deal.

Still, they had to be cautious. She knew that. She just didn't want to make a big deal out of this.

Michonne slowly made her way to the closet as another wave of nausea hit her. She took a deep breath, swallowing it down. Maybe they _should_ visit the Hilltop. It would be nice to be able to take a couple of steps without wanting to fall into bed and sleep for the next three days.

She was just so _tired_ all of the time.

Michonne got dressed and finally headed towards the door. She opened it and peaked out. The hallway was empty. Rick had probably told Carl to stay inside his room since Michonne was coming out. Rick had practically told everyone to stay away from her in case she was contagious; she hadn't seen anyone for a little over a week, ever since she'd woken up in the middle of the night and rushed to the toilet and threw up everything she had eaten.

Rick tended to her for the next couple of days, insisting that she rest, and rest she did. She was so just so _tired_ lately, and sore, from her back to her feet swelling to her head aching. When she wasn't sleep she was throwing up and after the fourth day Rick had told everyone that she was not to be bothered. He'd damn near kicked Carl and Judith out of the house but Carl refused to leave – he was in that stubborn and rebellious stage and refused to see reason. He consented to staying in his room, but that was all.

Michonne made her way downstairs as Rick started upstairs. He stopped as he saw her. "I was about to come get you."

"I'm capable of walking," she told him, clearly annoyed. He didn't seem to mind her attitude. He just took it in stride, and together they made their way to the RV.

"You can lay down if you want," said Rick. Michonne just glared at him and then made her way to the front seat. Rick followed behind her and headed towards the driver's seat, and then they headed off.

…

Michonne groaned and stood up, Rick right there. Michonne wiped her mouth on her arm, shaking a little. Rick rubbed the small of her back.

"Okay, you were right," sighed Michonne. "I need to go to Hilltop. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"It's not about me bein' right or wrong," Rick told her as he helped her into the RV. "It's about gettin' you taken care of so we can get you better. We _need_ you. _I_ need you."

Michonne softened as she looked at him. "I'm sorry. I know I haven't made this easy. I don't get sick, and I hate feeling so weak. But it's been a week and nothing drastic has happened."

"Nothin' changed, either."

"This isn't the prison," Michonne reminded Rick. "We're better equipped this time." Rick nodded, biting his jaw, looking out into the distance. "Come on. Let's get there."

Michonne slept on the couch for the remaining ride. Rick wouldn't let her stay in the bedroom. She was convinced it was because he wanted to keep his eyes on her. For his desire to have no one be near her, he certainly had no problem being around her. He still slept next to her, held her, kissed her.

She was happy for his presence then… she _wanted_ him near. But if anything was wrong with her… if it really was something serious… he shouldn't have been so close to her.

Rick gently rubbed her arm so that she would wake up. "We're here." She slowly sat up, nodding, and the two of them made their way out of the RV.

"It's just Rick," one of the guards said. Rick nodded up to them as the gates opened.

Maggie and Jesus met them. "Everything's okay," Michonne said immediately. "Mostly." She glanced at Rick.

"We jus' need to see Dr. Carson," said Rick. "Is he available?"

Maggie stared at them and then nodded. "Jesus, will you take them to Dr. Carson?"

"Of course." Jesus nodded to them and they followed him to Dr. Carson's trailer. Jesus knocked and Dr. Carson opened the door. Surprise flickered in his eyes.

"Rick. Michonne," he said. "What a pleasant surprise."

"It's not a social call," said Jesus, glancing at them.

"Okay. Come on in." Dr. Carson moved aside and Michonne and Rick stepped inside. "Thank you, Jesus." Dr. Carson closed the door and showed them the way. They followed behind him until he motioned for Michonne to sit down. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

Michonne shrugged. "I woke up in the middle of the night about a week ago throwing up, and it hasn't really stopped. I don't feel right. My body aches, I'm tired all the time… no one else has caught anything but Rick has been pretty adamant about closing me off. He's been sleeping with me still and he hasn't caught anything, but I definitely have something. I figured it was food poisoning or something."

"But she's eaten the same thing everyone else has and no one else has gotten sick," Rick told Dr. Carson. "Not to mention food poisoning doesn't usually last this long."

"No, it doesn't," agreed Dr. Carson. He rummaged around and handed Michonne some different clothes. "Why don't you change into something more comfortable and we'll start running some tests?"

…

"Rick, I wanna go _home_ ," Michonne said.

"I know," sighed Rick.

"It's been three days, we've run every test imaginable and he's found nothing."

"That's not exactly true," Dr. Carson said, walking inside. "I did find something." Rick slid his hand into hers. "I found it your first night here, but I wanted to make sure." Rick stood up and Michonne stared at him. "You're fine, Michonne, but you've definitely caught a bug. It'll go away in a few months. I'd like to take an ultrasound to figure out how far along you are, but my guess with your symptoms is you're close to your second trimester."

Michonne just looked at him. Rick stood stock-still and just blinked at Dr. Carson.

"I'm sorry, _what_?" asked Rick.

Dr. Carson looked at them. "You two are going to have a baby." The silence was deafening. "Michonne, you're pregnant." Rick and Michonne just continued to stare at him. "Trust me on this one, okay? Remember how I kept having you urinate in a cup every morning when you first woke up? I was placing pregnancy tests in them. Every single one came back positive. You have all the symptoms. It's also why I keep having you eat even though you can't keep anything down."

Michonne gently slid her hands out of Rick's.

Dr. Carson noticed the exchange. "I'll let you two talk. I have a few rounds to make, shouldn't take too long."

When they heard the trailer door close Michonne sat up. She didn't look at Rick, not immediately.

"What are you thinkin'?" he asked her.

"I'm thinking I haven't been anyone's mother in years."

"That's not true." Rick bent down so that he was eye-level with her. "What the hell do you call what you do with Carl and Judith?"

"Carl and Judith are like my best friends," commented Michonne.

"Oh please. You make Carl clean his room. You make Judith eat her vegetables."

"No one's _called_ me Mom in years, then."

"That's 'cause you taught Judith how to call you 'Chonne." Michonne finally looked up at Rick. "You've never stopped bein' a mother. I don't see how this news would make you feel any different."

She searched his eyes. "You're okay with this?"

"I came here thinkin' you were _dyin_ ', Michonne. And it turns out instead you're carryin' life. It's the best news I could've gotten. No, it wasn't planned. But I already love this child, the same way I love its mother."

Michonne reached out and grabbed Rick's face, placing her forehead against his. "I love you," she whispered.

"Not as much as I love you," said Rick, kissing her. He meant for it to be a quick peck but it quickly turned into much more when he slid his tongue into her mouth. His hands reached under her shirt almost immediately.

"Rick. What are you doing?"

"I want you," he mumbled against her neck.

"Rick, I am not about to have sex with you in this man's office."

"I haven't had you in over a week. Wanna bet?" He stood up and pulled her to him, leading them into the bathroom and closing the door. "I just need a fix." He reached for his belt buckle and Michonne laughed, shaking her head.

"Make it quick," she told him.

"I don't think I have a choice." He slid his finger into her center and Michonne gasped, arching her back. He picked her up and placed her on the sink, lifting her gown. He entered her, surely, and quickly started rocking his hips into hers. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as he gripped her hips, and then they were both breathing heavily and gasping, groaning, and grunting.

It didn't take long – it never did with Michonne. Normally he had to force himself not to cum, but he couldn't hold back as he entered in and out of her. Not with the way she was whimpering and thrusting back at him. He figured the trailer was probably shaking at this point and all of the Hilltop knew what they were up to, but he didn't care.

He pumped into her and she clenched around him. Cursing he followed suit, emptying himself into her. Panting he collapsed against her, breathing hard.

"So that's how we got the baby," she commented. Rick snorted, placing his head between her breasts.

"Tell me you want this," he said against her chest. "I need to hear you say it."

"I've always wanted this with you," said Michonne, and he looked up at her. "I didn't want it now. But I wanted it." He kissed her, hard, but she pushed him away. "Not twice."

He nodded. "Right." He buckled his pants and Michonne straightened her nightgown. They left the bathroom, closing the door behind them and waited for Dr. Carson to return.

"Everything go okay in here?" he asked.

"Yes. We're not as shocked now," said Michonne.

Dr. Carson nodded. "Let's get this ultrasound to see how far along you are, and then we'll get you your prenatal vitamins and care packages. You're more than welcome to stay here for a few more days if—"

"No," Michonne said, glancing at Rick. "We'll leave tonight. We have to go back and share the news with our family."

Dr. Carson nodded. "I'm sure Carl will be very happy."

"I'm sure they all will," Rick said, sliding his hand back into Michonne's. She smiled at him and squeezed it.

"Let's go to work," stated Dr. Carson. "And congratulations."

Congratulations, indeed.

A/N: NOT related to ANY of my one-shots where Michonne is talking about having a baby, or is pregnant. This is just a random, stand-alone scenario on how Richonne might find out she's pregnant.


	83. Summer Camp

_Another A/U of teenage Richonne, because it's so fun._

 **SUMMER CAMP**

 **Rated K**

The bus pulled up to Camp Alexandria and the people on the bus could barely contain their excitement. As soon as the bus came to a stop and the doors opened the people cheered and got off the bus, their bags in the hands.

"Finally," Daryl said, swinging his bag behind his shoulder.

"Took us long enough to get here," smiled Glenn.

"You're jus' excited to see Maggie," Daryl snorted.

"Like you're excited to see Carol?" asked Glenn slyly.

Daryl kept his face blank. "I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout."

"Yah right," Rick said.

Glenn glanced at him. "You good?"

"Hell yah," said Rick. "I told you last summer: I was already over Lori."

"But she cheated on you, man," Daryl reminded Rick. "With your _best friend_. That's gotta hurt a little."

"Shane wasn't my best friend. If he was, he wouldn't'a done what he did. You guys are my friends. It is what it is."

They stared at him, realizing he was serious.

"Well whatever happened with you and Jessie?"

Rick shrugged. "We talked a little bit through the year, but… she reminds me a lot of Lori. Clingy. Needy…." Rick shrugged again. "I don't know."

"She's hot," stated Daryl. Rick just arched an eyebrow. "What? She is."

They continued their way towards their cabin, making small talk, hardly taking in the familiar scenery: the overwhelming smell of pine trees, the greenery, the trails, and the large lake in the middle of the camp. They were used to this by now. Every year for the past four years they'd all been coming to this summer camp. They'd forged friendships that would last forever.

Some of them had forged relationships that would last just as long.

It was their last year here, though. Next year would be their senior year of high school, and after that, it'd be off to college for Glenn, Rick would join the Academy, and Daryl would probably take over his father's shop.

It was the first day of summer camp, and already it felt bittersweet.

"Yo. Check her out." Daryl's voice bought Rick back to reality. "Who's that?"

Rick didn't have an answer. He knew he'd never seen her before. Some girls you noticed as they got older. Like Jessie—she was a year younger than them, but she'd left summer camp a girl two years ago, and returned to camp very much a woman last year.

 _This_ girl, people would remember. Rick knew he'd never seen her before, and he would have.

She had dark 'locs in her hair, some of them streaked with blonde, and she had an aura about her that made his breath catch in his throat and time stop. Her dark eyes seem to take everything in, including the fact that he was staring at her, probably with his mouth wide open. Her full lips split into an easy smile that Rick _hoped_ he returned, but he couldn't be one hundred percent sure.

She had skin the color of coffee beans, and he couldn't help but think that if he ever had a taste of her, he'd be addicted.

"You, uh… gonna keep walkin' man, or jus' keep starin'?" Daryl's voice forced Rick back into the present. He looked around. Daryl and Glenn were beside him, the mysterious girl was gone, and everybody else was going about their day as if they all hadn't just been in the presence of an angel.

"Who _was_ that?" asked Rick.

"How the hell should we know, man?" Daryl responded

"She was… she was..." _Perfect_ came to mind. Goddess. Angelic. " _Gorgeous,_ " he finally finished.

Glenn looked amused but Daryl rolled his eyes. "Give me a break. This ain't no damn romance novel."

…

It wasn't until dinnertime that Rick finally got to meet her. After getting to their cabin and unpacking, they had the annual welcome gathering, and then people broke off into their groups for afternoon activities. Daryl went down to practice bowing; Glenn went to fencing practice; and Rick went to the gun range. He had kept an eye out for her as they all switched – Rick went from the gun range to the forest to shoot bows, Glenn went from fencing to swimming, and Daryl went from shooting bows to the gun range – but it seemed like no matter what Rick did or where he went, the new girl was nowhere to be found.

At dinner Daryl and Glenn approached him.

"You meet the new girl yet?" asked Daryl.

"No," Rick said, his shoulders dropping as he tried not pout. "I take it you two have?"

"Bro. She's _incredible_ with a bow," beamed Daryl. "I've never seen anyone shoot like that, not even _me_."

"And she's a hell of swimmer," Glenn said. "She was with me in swim class and she's a natural. Shane had her in shooting class, said she was good at that, too."

"And get this," said Daryl, lowering his voice. "Apparently she whooped Lori's ass at fencing."

Rick's eyebrows shot up. " _What_?"

Daryl shrugged. "That's the rumor, anyway. I didn't have fencing class with her."

"Nor did I."

Rick tried to think about that. No one could beat Lori at fencing. She was _good_. But before he could really think about it, Daryl spoke again.

"Oh. Here she comes."

Before Rick could gather his thoughts, she was there.

"Hey guys." Her voice was like… like liquid honey, or a cool, crisp breeze on an autumn day. Like cherry blossoms in the spring.

"Hey, Michonne," smiled Glenn.

"'Sup?" Daryl said.

But Michonne didn't really say anything to them. She was looking at Rick.

"Oh. Right," Daryl said, shooting Glenn an amused look. "This is Rick. Rick, this is Michonne."

Rick smiled at her, his heart hammering.

"You must be the one everyone was talking about at the gun range. Everyone kept saying I had a better shot than you."

Rick tilted his head to the side. "Well I guess we'll have to see about that sometime."

She gave him a wide grin. "Hopefully sooner rather than later." Rick felt his face go warm. Was she _flirting_ with him? "I'll see you guys around." And even though she was talking to all of them, her eyes stayed on Rick.

Rick watched her as she walked away, meeting up with a pretty girl named Sasha, his mouth hanging open.

"You gonna wipe that drool or you chin or nah?" Once again Daryl's voice brought him back to reality.

Ignoring his best friend, Rick made his way to their signature table and sat down.

…

It was a couple of days before Rick was able to see Michonne shoot. He had purposely followed her that day. She started with her fencing class, and Rick watched her in silent awe, thinking she'd be damned good with a sword if she ever needed one.

She was like a fish in the water. He briefly wondered if she'd ever considered the Olympics with the way she sliced and diced through the water. She was incredible, her strokes firm, her form perfect. He'd never seen anything like her.

She was also really good with a bow. She definitely gave Daryl a run for his money, and that was saying something, because if Daryl was anything, he was a hunter. She had good form here as well, her muscular arms bulging, her nimble fingers letting the arrow fly into the center of the target.

But the gun range… no one even practiced anymore. Everyone just stood around, watching her as she hit target after target, her eyes focused. He thought of the way she swam, fenced, and shot that bow and wondered if there was anything she couldn't do.

"You ever thought about bein' a cop?" Rick asked her as they headed to dinner.

She snorted. "Hell no." She looked at him. "Why, is that what you want to do?"

He nodded, his dreams of him and Michonne being partners fading. "What do you wanna do?"

"I already got into Howard University. It's in DC, not too far from here. After that I hope to get into law school."

Rick nodded. "You from here then?"

"No. I actually live in Atlanta."

Rick jerked his head towards her. "I live in King's County."

She smiled at him. "I know. I saw your shirt the other night when we were around the campfire."

Rick's stomach did a dance as he remembered the other night. Every Friday night everyone gathered around the campfire. It was _the_ place to be, and most of the time boyfriends spent the majority of the night making out with their girlfriends. It was romantic… people fed each other s'mores and couples tended to disappear into the woods….

Aside from his first year, this was the first time Rick wouldn't have a girlfriend at the campfire. He'd spent the majority of the night giving Glenn and Maggie and Daryl and Carol space, so he hung out with a guy named Jesus that he got along with.

Until Michonne caught his eye.

She was standing at the opposite end of the fire, and he could just make out her sweatshirt, the word HOWARD displayed across it. When he caught her eye she smiled, and then made her way towards him.

Rick had introduced her to Jesus, and the three of them made small talk until Jesus excused himself.

"So where's Sasha?" asked Rick.

Michonne shrugged. "Probably with Morgan."

"Oh." Rick was quiet for a while after that.

"You wanna make s'mores?" Michonne blurted out.

He sent her a grin. "Sure."

Nothing much else had happened, but it'd been enough for him to realize he _liked_ her. Like really, really liked her.

To find out now that she lived in Atlanta… so many different thoughts played through his mind, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He didn't want to jump the gun.

He would just let the summer play out.

…

As the weeks passed Rick and Michonne grew closer. Fortunately, she had made friends with Sasha, who was also close with Maggie and Carol, and figuring Maggie was dating Glenn, and Carol was with Daryl, it meant they all spent a lot of time together.

The days seem to fly by.

As if to prove it, Rick found himself having a conversation that reminded him that he didn't have a lot of time left.

"Hey, Rick." Rick turned around and found himself staring into the green eyes of Andrea.

"Hey," said Rick, the two of them heading towards the cabins. "Haven't seen you around much. What's up?"

"Nothing," Andrea smiled. "You going to the End of the Summer Dance?"

Rick blinked. He'd forgotten all about that damn dance. He shrugged. "Ain't really thought about it yet."

Andrea grinned. "Why don't you think about going with me?"

Rick stopped in his tracks, arching an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "I thought you were here to see if I'd wanna go with Lori. I know her and Shane broke up. But instead _you're_ askin' me? Lori's your best friend."

Andrea rolled her eyes. "Lori and Shane did break up, but they got back together. I asked her and she said it was cool."

Rick frowned. "Go with Dale. He's been pining after you for years."

"But I wanna go with you," Andrea said, stepping closer to him.

…

"So I told her that I was good, and walked off," Rick said at dinner that night. "Can you _believe_ she asked me?"

"Yah," stated Glenn, taking a bite of his mashed potatoes.

"She's probably been into you as long as Shane's been into Lori," Daryl said, taking a drink. Rick just looked at him. "What? It's true. You never pick up on these things."

"You _are_ kinda aloof," agreed Michonne, and he looked at her. She shrugged, a sheepish smile on her face.

"Are _you_ goin' to the dance?" Rick challenged.

She shrugged again. "I don't know. No one's asked."

"Yah right," stated Sasha. "Tyreese has been hinting at it for _weeks_."

" _Tyreese_?" Rick turned and stared at the dark skinned man. He was handsome, in his own way, but wasn't good enough for Michonne. "He's a junior."

" _And_?" asked Maggie.

"And we're seniors, duh," Daryl answered.

"Lord, not this again," muttered Carol.

"What? It's true," Rick argued. "We're in our fourth and _last_ year at camp. We run this place, and it's ours for the taking."

Michonne rolled her eyes. "You are so full of shit, Grimes." She couldn't quite hide the affection from her voice. "Next year in school you'll be the quiet, small town boy who'll marry the first girl he falls in love with."

"Sorry we can't all be you, and have people throwing themselves at our feet," Rick said.

"Not _everyone_ ," stated Michonne pointedly.

Rick looked down, blushing, refusing to meet her eye, even as Daryl kicked him under the table. " _Ow_!" Rick said, glaring at Daryl. Daryl gave him a look and Rick got up. "I'll see you guys later."

…

Later on that night Rick snuck out of bed, throwing on his jeans and a sweatshirt. Despite the fact that it was summer it still got cold out here in Alexandria.

He crept outside and made his way towards the lake, his breath catching in his throat as he made out her silhouette against the bright moon. He didn't say anything as he sat down next to her. They stared quietly at the lake, the moon's reflection bright on the dark lake.

They'd been sneaking out here for a couple of weeks now. One night when he couldn't sleep he'd come out here and she'd been out here, and it had sort of become their routine.

A soft breeze blew and Rick sighed. The faint scent of peaches hit his nostrils. "You smell really, _really_ good," he told her.

She sent him a mild glance, her mouth upturned. "Thanks." She looked at him. "How long before you shave?"

Rick shrugged, his fingers brushing the five o'clock shadow on his face. "You hate it?"

"No, actually I like it. It makes you look older. Distinguished."

He blushed, though he doubted she could see. "I'll keep it."

"You should."

His face grew warmer and he looked down, placing his hands in his lap.

"Rick?" His breath caught in his throat. He _relished_ in the way she said his name. It sounded so exotic coming from her mouth, the way it rolled off her tongue. He looked at her, too stunned to say anything. "Let's go swimming."

He blinked at her. "Are you _crazy_?" She shook her head. "Michonne, it's freezin'."

She sent him a blinding smile. "Chicken?"

"Hell yah."

She stood up. "How are you gonna be a cop with that attitude?"

"Nowhere in the job description does it say that I have to jump into a freezin' lake to appease a beautiful woman."

His eyes fluttered closed as he realized what he'd just said.

"You think I'm goooorgeous, you wanna daaaaate me, love me and marrrrrrry me." The Miss Congeniality reference had Rick laughing, and the pressure easing. He was used to saying movie quotes with her. They had seen a lot of the same movies, and they seemed to have a lot in common. "Come on, Grimes. Let's take a dive."

"Michonne, there is no force on this earth that'll make me get in that lake right now."

She arched an eyebrow, grabbed his hand, and yanked him off the pier.

He'd have screamed if his lungs hadn't frozen on the spot.

"As soon as I unfreeze, I'm gonna kill you," Rick threatened. Michonne laughed, swimming towards him. "It's not funny. I'm catching pneumonia."

"I think it feels good." He had a retort ready when he realized how close she was, and suddenly he couldn't breathe for an entirely different reason. She was close. _Too_ close. "I wanna ask you something." Rick arched an eyebrow, his mouth suddenly dry. "Am I gonna have to make the first move?"

He blinked at her. "What?"

Michonne huffed. "I've turned down Bob and Tyreese, not to mention Zeke, who I actually kinda like, all in hopes that you would ask me to the dance. But you haven't. I don't think I'm reading the signs wrong. I see the way you look at me." Rick inhaled sharply. "Just tell me if I need to ask you myself, because I will." Rick just stared at her. "Or… or I've been wrong this entire time, and just embarrassed myself?"

Rick remained silent, just staring at her, and he saw the way she frowned, and then her eyes widened and she started to swim away.

Rick reached out and grabbed her, pulling her to him, and then his mouth was on hers, and suddenly he couldn't even feel the cold water anymore.

Something erupted inside of him as they kissed. It was like fireworks on the Fourth of July; like opening Christmas gifts on Christmas morning; like that first bite of turkey on Thanksgiving; like the last day of school, or the first day of summer….

It was all those things, all rolled into one, and then some.

When he finally pulled away he stared at her. "Michonne Rogers, will you go to the dance with me?"

Michonne laughed. "I thought you'd never ask."

As they years passed they kept attending dances together. He asked her to his prom, and took her to hers. They shared a dance at Glenn and Maggie's wedding, and at his parent's renewal of the vows ceremony. They danced at clubs together, and concerts, and in the rain when the occasion called for it.

They danced when he got into the Academy, and they danced when she got into law school. They danced in the museums when they looked at art, they danced when Rick made Deputy, and she got hired at a law firm.

They never stopped dancing, but no matter what, his favorite dance would always be the first one they shared as Mr. and Mrs. Grimes. They danced when they bought their first house, and when she got pregnant with their son Andre, they danced again when she got pregnant with Carl, and they danced again when she got pregnant with Judith.

They danced, because it was a dance that changed everything, a dance at summer camp where Rick had met a girl who he'd fallen in love with, and married, just like she predicted all those years ago.

It was somewhat bittersweet when they sent Andre off to Camp Alexandria. They hoped that the camp would be just as magical for him as it had been for them.

They watched him head to his cabin, and then they drove away, thinking about the magic of summer camp.

* * *

Frickin LOVED this one, y'all. IDK why lol hope yall enjoyed it too.


	84. Camping Trip

A/N: I'm SO glad you guys liked Summer Camp as much as I did. I had a blast writing it. Also, you guys seemed to really like when Michonne met Rick's family for the first time. I've got some ideas brewing for that Universe. Hope you guys enjoy today's story!

* * *

 _A/U no walkers, but most of our beloveds =]_

 _I wrote this one BEFORE the Summer Camp story (Chapter 83) so this one definitely inspired that one. The two are in no way related._

 **CAMPING TRIP**

 **Rated M for sex in the woods ;)**

They sat around the campfire, huddled together, Michonne shivering slightly. Rick tightened his hold on her, locking his fingers around her stomach, and she leaned into him.

"It's so _cold_ ," she said. "Who's idea was this camping trip?"

"Yours," replied everyone.

Michonne stared sheepishly at all of them. "Oh yah. Right."

"You know what'll help?" asked Daryl. They all stared at him expectantly. "Booze."

Michonne, Rick, Sasha, Morgan, Maggie, and Tyreese all perked up.

"Great. What am _I_ supposed to do?" Carl whined.

Daryl shrugged. "I don't know, man, make out with your girlfriend?" Carl blushed, grimacing, and Enid buried her face in her hands.

"Stop teasing them," smiled Michonne. She glanced at Carl, who smiled gratefully at her. She winked while Rick chuckled behind her.

Daryl headed to his tent and came back with several bottles and red solo cups.

Michonne shivered again and Rick buried his face in her neck. "I think you need a little bit of body heat," he told her in her ear. She turned so that she could look at him, noticing his sky blue eyes were currently glowing navy.

"Absolutely not. I told you, we are _not_ having sex in the woods."

He brushed his lips against her ear, causing Michonne to shiver for a different reason as his stubble tickled her neck. "That's what you said last night."

Michonne blushed and turned away from her, thankful that Daryl took that moment to appear. He handed her a cup and poured her a healthy amount of tequila before moving on to Rick.

Michonne downed half her cup, trying her hardest to get last night out of her mind.

The way they'd snuck out of the tent. Headed into the woods. Found a secluded area.

Fucked each other senseless against a tree.

She had the bruises to prove it.

It'd been the craziest thing she'd ever done, and in the moment it had been _so_ worth it.

She could still feel it… feel _him_. They acted like they'd never had each other before. His tongue was hot as it tasted her body – every single inch – and his lips were passionate as he kissed every place imaginable. His teeth bit her shoulder, her thighs, and his hands had been _everywhere_ so by the time he'd finally entered her she'd cum from one thrust. He'd had to keep his hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming and alerting _everyone_ to what it was they were doing. Her body had responded harshly and desperately, as if they were horny teenagers. She'd cum so many times she'd lost count, and afterwards she was sore in all the right places.

He left her panting, wanting more, and delirious with pleasure.

Her shirt had ripped – and it was one of her favorite shirts, too – her underwear was nothing more than scraps, and she had hickies all over her neck.

The next morning everyone had known what they had done, and she'd never been more embarrassed.

Now here he was, talking about going another round.

When she was on cup two she started feeling her drink. She'd always been a lightweight – she was a wine drinker, and she'd never had more than two glasses of wine at a time – but she was with friends and they were out camping, so it only made sense to have a little fun.

She turned to Rick and looked into his cup. "Stop baby-sitting," she told him.

His eyes twinkled. "Are you tryin' to get me drunk?"

Michonne looked down without answering, and she could feel Rick's body shaking with laughter. Then he moved her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck.

Michonne stood up, needing to get away from him. He was infuriating sometimes.

And she wanted him. Badly.

"Can you get me a beer?" Rick asked her, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. She didn't answer, but after she poured herself another cup of tequila, she grabbed him a beer and headed to their tent.

When she returned with their comforter and sat down next to Rick instead of in front of him so that he could no longer wrap his arms around her, he arched an eyebrow.

"Can we share that?" asked Rick.

She glanced at him, a scowl on her face, and Rick laughed. He pulled her to him so that she lost her balance and fell against his chest.

" _Really_?" Michonne scolded.

Rick laughed and cupped her cheek, kissing her so softly it made her melt. Against her will she returned the kiss, moaning softly once he slid his tongue into her mouth.

" _Gross_ ," Carl said. "Can't you two get a room?"

"Looks like you'll have to sleep outside your tent tonight," laughed Sasha. "I'd offer for you to stay in ours, but… we've got plans of our own." Sasha glanced at Morgan, who smirked.

Enid turned and faced Carl. "Please don't ever invite me on anymore family trips."

"I swear I don't know these people," muttered Carl.

"You and Enid can crash with me," Maggie said. "It's not like I have anything better to do. Glenn couldn't make it."

"They don't need to crash with anyone," stated Michonne, sitting up. "We're good."

"The hell we are," Rick muttered in her ear.

She ignored him.

…

Rick looked at Michonne, who was currently talking with Sasha, the two of them huddled near the fire and laughing and giggling, cups still in their hands.

Michonne was drunk – they all were, really, but that was neither here nor there – and Rick watched as the two women chatted. Sasha must have said something funny because Michonne threw her head back, exposing her neck, her 'locs cascading down her back.

In that moment, in that second, Rick felt so damn lucky to have her.

He was in love with her. Madly, hopelessly, obnoxiously in love with her.

He didn't think it'd happen again. He'd already had a wife once, and it ended in divorce after thirteen years of marriage. She had accused him of never communicating, of being incapable of communicating, yet _she_ was the one who refused to tell him about her affair with his best friend. He had confronted her.

It'd been a long, bitter divorce, and confusing, too. Half the time she wanted to work it out, the other half she wanted to be with Shane. And then she wound up pregnant, and….

He'd met Michonne two years later, when he'd gone with Carl on a field trip to an art museum. She was there, with her son Andre, on a similar trip. They wound up in the same line for lunch, and the cafeteria was so crowded they decided to sit at the same table. After lunch he'd pulled out a pack of mints and had offered her one. She took it, her hands brushing against his softly, and time seemed to stop. Even when they parted ways he couldn't get her off of his mind.

It wasn't until they were leaving when he saw her again.

They were parked next to each other.

He was done for.

They'd been together ever since and that was three years ago.

But sometimes it still hit him, how much he loved her.

"Want another cup?" asked Daryl.

Rick snorted. "Hell no. I'm drunk as shit. In fact," Rick stood up, stumbling a little as he did, "I think I'll call it a night."

"Suit yourself, man. I'll get another cup, and make another s'more."

Rick made his way to his own tent, gently brushing Michonne's shoulder as he passed her. He made sure to be quiet. Carl was already asleep, snoring softly. Enid had crashed with Maggie so Rick stripped down and climbed into his blankets.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep before Michonne came into the tent. She placed the cover on top of him and started undressing, keeping an eye on Carl.

When she reached for the same sweatshirt he had taken off, he grabbed it.

"Leave it off," he whispered.

She frowned at him. "Are you crazy?" He just looked at her. "It's too cold to have sex."

"I can warm you up."

Without her consent she smirked at him. Rolling her eyes Michonne sighed and got under the covers, Rick immediately pulling her close.

"We are not having sex with Carl in this tent."

"He won't be able to hear us," Rick murmured, already climbing on top of Michonne. He felt her harsh intake of breath and grinned, his lips finding her neck.

He was rock hard, and he knew it wasn't just the alcohol. He'd been wanting her like this for _weeks_ now, lately he couldn't get enough of her, and he suspected it had everything to do with the fact that he wanted to marry her.

He slipped into her without warning, unable to control himself. Michonne gasped and her nails immediately clutched his back. He tried to take his time, stay still until she adjusted to him, but he couldn't. His hips moved on their own accord, desperate for her, desperate to get to her, desperate to _feel_ her.

Michonne locked her legs around his waist, taking him in. Rick buried his face in her neck, grunting softly, trying to remain somewhat controlled. She wasn't making it easy as she frantically started to meet his thrusts, seemingly desperate for her own release.

She gasped and clenched around him, and that only seemed to fuel the fire for Rick. He slid his hands underneath her to grip her hips from behind and pushed into her while forcing her deeper. She bit his shoulder as another orgasm clawed its way through her body and into his.

He removed his body enough to look at her. She stared back at him, her eyes dark, biting her lip to keep from crying out. When another orgasm broke through she gasped. He could see the smoke from the cool air coming out of her mouth, as she tried to catch her breath.

When she gripped his hair, pulling his face down so that she could kiss him, Rick finally exploded, sucking on her bottom lip to stop himself from screaming aloud.

It took him several seconds for his hips to stop hammering and for his heart to slow down.

"Oh my God," whispered Rick.

Michonne chuckled, cuddling into him. "Remind me to have drunk sex with you again."

Rick snorted. "Yah, okay. Next time both Andre and Carl are away the same weekend."

Michonne nodded. "Deal."

She rummaged around until she found his sweatshirt, slipping it over her head. Rick put on a few more layers as well, and together they got comfortable.

"I say we had a damn good campin' trip," Rick said. "We should go again. Jus' me and you."

Michonne nodded. "Sounds fun. But next time we'll go in the summer."

Rick smiled and sealed that thought with a kiss.

* * *

A/N: I always thought it was weird in S1 when Lori and Rick had sex in the tent with Carl, but hey, I guess you gotta get it in whenever you can lol.


	85. For Rick

Thought it was time to go back canon lol (at least semi-canon)

* * *

 _Prompt—"Hmm, a prompt. What about when they reunited after the prison fell, and we actually get our reaction to when they opened the door and if Joe and his goons hadn't shown up. I just want some quality Grimes Family 2.0 time and Rick and Michonne figuring it out during that time that they love each other and sealing the deal." –Courtgirl26_

 _I LOVE this prompt, because I wanted a smutty version of when Michonne met up with her Grimes boy and I couldn't figure out how to do it. Thanks to this prompt, it came to me. Takes place during "After." Joe and co do not exist. Like ever._

 **FOR RICK**

 **Rated M for smut**

She found Rick in the upstairs bedroom, looking out the window. His body was tense, and there was a quiet sadness radiating from him that Michonne knew all too well. He glanced up at her as she entered the room and then quickly looked away.

"Carl's finally asleep," she told him softly, standing next to him.

He nodded and glanced at her again. "You've been cryin'." The words were out of his mouth before he could think better of them. He watched her body tense and shuffled his feet.

Michonne stayed silent for several moments. "She's not dead, Rick." Rick's entire body froze. "She's not. We don't have to talk about it. We don't have to discuss it. But deep down… I know."

Rick kept looking out the window until the pull to look at her was too strong. "How?" He met her gaze.

"Just trust me," said Michonne softly. "You don't have to get your hopes up or anything. I'll do that for you. But Judith is okay." Rick didn't say anything, just continued looking out the window. "Let me get a good look at you."

"I'm okay."

"Carl said you were unconscious."

Rick sighed heavily. "He probably wishes I was dead." Michonne inhaled sharply. "You being here was the best thing for him."

"It was the best thing for me too." Rick whipped his head towards Michonne. Her gaze was soft as she looked at him. He looked her over, his heart pounding a million miles a minute. She didn't say anything else, but she kept her eyes locked with his.

"When you knocked on that door… I laughed and told Carl it was for him."

"I'm not just here for Carl, Rick." The admission was gentle but had Rick's heart falling to his stomach. He continued to stare at her, trying to read her. He was good at that now, just as she was good at reading him. "I'm with you," she told him.

Rick looked down, unable to decipher what she was really saying. Was she saying what he _thought_ she was saying? What he _hoped_ she was saying? Because the desire for her… the _need_ for her was stronger than ever.

It always had been when it came to Michonne. From the second she showed up at the prison he hadn't been able to look away from her. They hadn't always gotten along. They had had their differences. But she _got_ him, and no one, _no one_ had been able to _get_ him before.

"I never thanked you," he said quietly, throwing her words back at her.

"For what?"

"For savin' my life. For killin' the Governor. I was close to death. I was. If you hadn't came…." Rick's voice trailed off. "I'm here 'cause of you."

"I guess you can call us even, then." Rick might have confessed his love to her right then and there, only she turned away from him. He frowned until she spoke. "You're bleeding. Sit on the bed and let me fix you up."

Rick did as he was told as he made his way to the bed. Michonne messed around in the bathroom until she came across what she needed. She made her way to the bed and sat down so that she was eyelevel with him and started fixing him up. He flinched when she pressed too hard and she immediately eased the pressure.

"Sorry," she told him softly, her eyes flickering with concern. She gently wiped his face, her eyes never leaving his, and as if he were in a trance, his eyes stayed glued to hers. "There." Her voice was low, her gaze soft. "All better."

But she didn't move, and neither did he.

He reached up and cupped her cheek. Michonne's eyes immediately fluttered closed and she breathed deeply. He brushed his thumb across her lips and she stared at him. His eyes flickered to her full lips, almost seeking permission, but she didn't make a move.

Nor did she move away.

He took that as his cue and leaned forward, finally, _finally_ kissing her lips. They were softer than he'd ever imagined, and he'd imagined kissing them _a lot_. They made his heart stop in its tracks. When she responded he immediately turned his head and deepened the kiss, realizing that he was either dead and in heaven or very much _alive_ again.

He hadn't felt alive since he'd been shot.

It was when he moaned that Michonne stiffened and pulled away.

Rick stared at her, confused.

"Rick," said Michonne softly.

"You don't want to."

"You're not in your right mind."

Rick blinked at her. "I don't have drugs in my system."

"You're grieving."

Rick gave Michonne a soft smile and cupped her face again. "I didn't just start feelin' this way tonight, Michonne." Michonne melted into his touch. "Is that what you think of me?"

"No. Of course not. I just didn't wanna wake up tomorrow and things be different between us."

"Really?" asked Rick. "Cus that's all I want."

And then he kissed her again.

This time Michonne seemed ready. She grabbed the back of his neck, forcing him closer, her tongue begging him for entrance that he happily obliged to. This time it was her turn to moan when he started sucking on his bottom lip. She gasped when he broke away and placed his lips on her neck. His calloused hands snaked under her shirt and gripped her breasts. He felt her muscles flinch against his touch and he felt himself strain against his jeans.

Rick removed his hands from under shirt and then lifted it above her head, flinging it across the room. Michonne followed suit and took off his shirt, her lips making their way to his chest. It was strange how badly he wanted her, and how badly she seemed to want him, but she was so gentle.

He wanted nothing more than to devour her, but he followed her lead and took his time with her, his tongue following the path around her nipples. She groaned, her body arching, and then she whispered his name and he decided he couldn't play nice anymore.

"I want you," he told her.

"Prove it," challenged Michonne, her eyes dark. His own eyes darkened as he reached for her boots, tossing them on the side of the bed, his hands immediately making their way to her hips so that he could take her pants off. She lied down, lifting her legs so that he could lower them off of her.

The need for her… the way his body was responding proved that he would have to explore her body later. Right now he had to get to her. He unbuckled his own pants, his belt and gun buckle dropping to the floor.

He covered his body with hers, tempted to just enter her, but instead he found himself kissing her again.

That he would never tire of, he realized.

Michonne's hands found their way to the base of his neck and her fingers skimmed his curls. When her fingers made their way through his curls and her body arched and he realized she was as ready as he was.

He shifted, positioning himself, and then looked at Michonne. She didn't say anything, she just wrapped her legs around him, giving him permission, and he took it and entered her.

He meant to take his time with her – he hadn't had a lot of time to think about sleeping with Michonne, but on the rare occasion he could think about it he figured he'd be able to _enjoy_ it – but his body had other ideas.

He physically forced himself to still as she adjusted to him. Her body was tense, her nails digging into her back, so he refused to move until the tension left her body before he started moving again.

When her body relaxed he started moving his hips, his strokes quicks because she felt better than anything he'd ever experienced before in his entire life, and he wanted nothing more than to ease the pleasure and the pressure. She squeezed his eyes shut, afraid that if he looked at her he'd explode; she felt so right, so tight, so amazing, like nothing he ever thought of and everything he'd thought of, all at the same time.

He gasped out her name against his will and buried his face in her neck. She took that as her cue, her legs tightening around him, her nails back in his flesh, her own hips thrusting against his rhythm. It felt like constant pleasure and was going to surely drive him over the edge if he wasn't careful. He gripped the sheets, his body speeding up, and she met him thrust for thrust.

She bit his shoulder, causing his body to jerk, and then her body arched off the bed. She choked out his name and clenched around him. He realized she was cumming. Panting he attempted to think of something else so that he wouldn't follow suit, but then her breath was in his ear, she was moaning, begging for more.

"Don't stop, please." The demand had Rick weakening. He wouldn't be able to hold out for too much longer, but he wanted to please her too.

He got distracted when Michonne's lips found his, her kiss firm and demanding. He kissed her back, hard, and without meaning to started speeding up again. She broke away, gasping, a string of yesses exiting from her mouth. He grunted out her name as he watched her, breathless, coming undone again, her eyes glued to his.

"Michonne," he whispered, a soft warning in his voice. He wouldn't be able to last too much too longer like this. She would be death of him.

"It feels good," said Michonne, and that was the last straw. He came, grunting her name, and Michonne gripped his curls, clenching around him, crying out his name until he was empty.

Panting and speechless he collapsed on top of her, his head spinning, both trying to speak and catch his breath at the same time. She clung on to him, whimpering softly as she came down from her high, and he took that last bit of strength he owned and found her lips.

The kiss was soft, and eager on her part. He took the time to lift his hips so that he could slide out of her.

"Well shit," Rick finally said, rolling off of her, his heart still pounding. Michonne turned and looked at him and Rick sent her a lazy smile, reaching out and pulling one of her locks. Then he leaned in and gave her another kiss. She responded to him slowly, almost shyly. When Rick pulled away he grabbed a few of the sheets and covered them, Michonne resting her head on his chest.

They stayed in silence for a long time, Rick gently caressing her side, Michonne's hand gripped in his free one.

"How'd you find us?" asked Rick softly.

Michonne stayed silent for a little while. "It wasn't all that difficult. I followed your footsteps."

Rick nodded. "Well I'm glad you did."

Michonne was quiet again before saying, "I almost didn't."

She felt Rick stiffen. "Why not?"

"Because of this. Because I've put myself out there once before and it ended horribly."

Michonne kept it at that, and Rick caressed her side. "Michonne… you and I are cut from the same cloth." Michonne nodded. "What made you change your mind?"

She shifted so that she could look at him. "I want this. I wanted Judith and Carl and you. That's what I was trying to tell you, when I said the door wasn't just for Carl. It was for you too, Rick."

She slithered on top of him then, and Rick instantly gripped her hips. She kept her eyes glued to him as she sunk down on him. He cursed as the sensation slapped at him; her rhythm was quick, her hips swirling. Rick reached up and gripped her breasts, harder than ever, and watched her as she watched him. He was afraid to blink.

He watched, transfixed, as she sped up, threw her head back, and came, moaning out his name. It almost made him cum but he held off, pulling her to him so that she was flat on top of him, her breasts against his chest, her legs clenched at his side. Without meaning to he called out her name, loudly. He gripped her ass, forcing her deeper, and forced her lips to his.

He thought he would cum soon, but Michonne slowed her pace down, her hips circling lazily. He grunted and she smiled wickedly at him. She was teasing him, he realized. He wanted her… _fuck_ he wanted her, badly. He'd never ached so badly before, and he was already deep inside of her. The desire to slam her hips down onto him was overwhelming.

He shifted, flipping them over again, suddenly absolutely mad for her. Keeping her inside of him he grabbed her arms and placed them above her head. His eyes locked on hers he started moving, his thrusts hard and fast. Michonne bit her lip, her eyes closed.

"Look at me," Rick demanded, and she obliged, immediately.

It was empowering.

He gripped her arms, using them for balance, entering her as deeply as he could. The headboard started hitting the wall. Michonne cried out and gripped the rails from the headboard, arching her back so that her body was off of the bed. Rick slammed into her, faster, faster, faster, desperate for her, desperate for more of her.

They both started and cried out as they came together, breathless, winded, yet still the desire to kiss each other was overwhelming and their lips met as their hips continued to plummet into each other. Both of them made noises they were sure weren't human but they couldn't stop themselves from making them.

After that sleep consumed them almost immediately. When Rick woke up again he and Michonne were a tangled mess of limbs, sweat, and covers. He looked at her, love hitting him full in the gut. He was in love her. Really, truly, completely, madly in love with her.

He softly caressed her bare shoulder and then kissed her. He honestly just meant to give her a simple kiss, but he wanted her again. He was hard as steel, unable to resist her, so his lips found hers.

She sighed softly, responding almost immediately, and Rick climbed on top of her.

He took his time with her this time, and was gentle with her, because he knew if he was sore in all the right places then so was she. She let him lead, moaning softly, her body responding much like she had last night. He sped up just enough to go deeper and Michonne came. It surprised him. He looked down at her, watching the way she was watching him watch her.

She reached up and kissed him, and then slid her fingers into his hair. She gently bit his shoulder, whimpering all the while as the pleasure started to consume her. Rick marveled at the way that this strong, beautiful warrior of a goddess was trembling at his touch. This same woman who had met him thrust for thrust last night now lay languid, allowing him to lead. He slid his hands underneath her so that his gripped her ass. He lifted her hips enough to force himself in deeper. Michonne cursed softly and Rick grunted.

"I'm not gonna last too much longer," he told her. She just whimpered in response. "I want you to cum for me, okay? Can you do that?"

"God, yes," groaned out Michonne.

"Now? Can you do it now, Michonne? Cum for me. Cum. Now. Now. _Now_ ,"

She clenched and he exploded, nearly howling with pleasure as he released. Michonne took every last drop, thrusting her hips as the ecstasy hit her.

Michonne kissed him again and he responded. He could go for another round with her. she was just so damn sexy.

"We should get up," Michonne said after their hearts had returned to their normal speed. "We don't want Carl to find us like this." Rick nodded but neither of them moved. He ran his fingers through her hair as he looked at her.

"I'm glad you found us," said Rick.

Michonne smiled softly. "Me too." He nodded and leaned in for another kiss. "I got first dibs on the shower." She was up and gone before he could blink.

He stayed there for a few more minutes, last night running through his head.

He hadn't been wrong when he'd told Carl the door had been for him.

But he hadn't been all the way right, either.

Michonne had come for him too. It'd been a long time since someone had done something for _him_.

He was glad that if anyone was looking out for Rick, it was her.


	86. Note

Note

You all… I currently have no words right now. As a Black woman who lives in America… (I cannot call myself an American right now) I am damn near broken. I'm just not in a good place right now. I need time with Jesus. I need to pray. I need to get my thoughts together. I need to talk to my family. Because I am broken.

I have nothing to give you all right now. I have no inspiration. These fictional characters no longer mean ANYTHING to me. I could not care less about a single episode of TWD right now.

I know some of you would like to escape. Some of you might like to read fan fic to take away some of the shock of last night's results. I will try my damnest to post. I still have SEVERAL stories already written. But when I tell yall I didn't even wanna get outta bed this morning…. I might not remember to post. I don't know how I'm going to even do homework. I almost didn't even go to work this morning. I'm not surprised. But yes, I am devastated. So I have some thoughts:

First and foremost: this is NOT the first time America has elected a racist asshole into the office. This country was BUILT off of racist assholes. We're talking about a country that discovered people here, took their land, killed them and exiled the rest, and claimed the US as their own. Don't let the fact that President Obama won twice make people forget the history of THIS country. We're taking about the country that was upset of the portrayal of Lyndon B. Johnson in Selma. We're talking about the country that set the FBI up to kill MLK Jr. We're talking about the country that had a president free the slaves only because of war. THIS... is sickeningly accurate historically. My murdered brothers and sisters can't even get justice... Trayvon Martin happened in 2012 and cops have picked up where Zimmerman left off and no one even CARES... No one's been convicted.

I am... furious to say the least. And sad. AND disgusted. But not surprised. No part of me is surprised.

NEITHER of them catered to the Black vote, and Clinton KNEW she needed that. She let POTUS and FLOTUS and the Beyhive try to cater to us. I never felt safe w/ Hillary. I never though I'd go forward w/ Hillary. I NEVER thought my PEOPLE would go forward w/ Hillary. I will stand by the notion that white women can never truly empathize w/ a Black woman, and her desire to do so stemmed from wanting to be POTUS. We never connected w/ her. But we voted for her in hopes that we wouldn't go backwards w/ Trump. IDK what happens now. I can tell you this, though: this country was made "great" again last night, just like Trump wanted. He had the KKK's support. Cops killing Black people for the fuckery of it... Yah. Sounds like old times out there.

I just ask that yall remember my name. Cus I said I'd march w/ King... but I'll be damned if I feel that way still. I'd have been there w/ Malcolm. I'd be a Black Panther. So look at my face in that picture. Remember it. Because I have no plans to go quietly into that good night. My people MADE this country. Our blood, sweat, and tears made this country. It was built off my ancestor's backs. I am the legacy of slaves they couldn't kill. And my mind is too free to go back now. Trump nor his supporters will never stop me. They'll have to kill me first. IDK what happens now. But understand I'm not going down w/o a fight. Because this... this I will not settle for. I've asked myself what I'd be like had I lived "back then." I guess we're about to see.

At the end of the day... we come from a legacy of people who continued to overcome. No matter what was thrown their way, they survived. We are proof of that. Four years is a lot better than the amount of years we spent shackled up in chains. It's a lot better than the amount of years we spent hanging from trees trying to get the right to vote. Four years is a lot less time than the amount it took to have a Black president. I HAVE to start believing that we WILL be alright. That we will get through this. By any means necessary. #FightOnMyPeople ✊

I will try to post something soon. Pray for me. Pray for US. I wonder if this is how America felt when President Obama became president... the shock, disbelief, and disgust that someone like this could be our leader. The difference? 2008 was about Hope. 2016 is about Hate. I have NO IDEA where we go from here. But in the words of Kendrick Lamar... we gon' be alright. We have to be.

I'm sorry I can't do more for you. I'm sorry this has happened. I'm just... sorry.


	87. Another Note

A/N: To the Guest reviewer who told me to "get over myself…." I thought about not addressing you at all, but I wouldn't be me if I didn't. You are part of the reason as to why I'm so disgusted with Trump: your innate inability to empathize with anyone who refuses to think like you do. I do not CARE that you are a Black man who voted for Trump. I don't care in the least. What I DO care about is you disregarding my feelings and disrespectfully brushing them aside without so much as a 'Hello.' I do not HAVE to get over myself. I have every right to fight against Trump being this country's president, and I have the RIGHT to express to my readers why I may not be posting as often as I was. I ALSO have the right to explain my frustration.

Last night I got to a MUCH better place. I prayed. I talked to some friends. I saw the protests. And I went to bed thinking I could talk to those who read this story and give them the good news. And then I saw your Review. You were the first message I read this morning. The first thing I read when I woke up was "Get over yourself please."

So how about this? How about you try to be a REAL man, sign in, and PM so we can have a TRUE discussion, instead of hiding behind an anonymous "Guest" review where you THINK you have the audacity or nerve to say whatever you want, and more disgustingly, think you have the right to tell me how I should or should not feel at this time? Because quite frankly I could go the hell off, but I won't let my readers see that side of me. I'll reserve that just for you.

With that said, I understand that men and women communicate differently. Where we tend to want to discuss our feelings, men want to immediately start to fix…. I am not wired that way, and don't appreciate being told to get over it. Yes, life moves on, and as I stated in my note, I don't plan on going down without a fight. This is not about a Republican winning over a Democrat. This is about an America who blatantly stated fuck me and every other person who is not a white man – which BTW includes YOU. This is about a man who sexually assaulted women, makes fun of the disabled, considers all Muslims terrorists, and disregards anyone else who does not look or think like him AND WON PRESIDENCY. Meanwhile I can't even catch a rerun of the bloody Cosby Show. I ALSO stated in my note that I WOULD pray. And I don't need to hope that Trump is a success. History repeats itself. I already know how this story plays out. I am NOT here for it.

To EVERYONE else: your Reviews and PMs have been AMAZING. I know a lot of you reached out feeling the same way I did. We are hurting, but you guys: we WILL overcome. We have ALWAYS overcome. It took me some time to remember that. It's ONLY four years. We survived five hundred years of slavery. In two years we have the primaries and we need to go out and vote. This is FAR from over.

I am SO excited to say that I will be joining the #TrumpIsNotMyPresident movement. I will be marching on Saturday and I'm ridiculously excited.

I know some of you said that not posting/writing would be letting them win, but I have to be inspired. Fan fic is not poetry. I can write poetry in heartache, in pain, in happiness, in depression, in love, in the middle of the day, in the middle of the night, but fan fic is different. It takes a lot to put myself in the "Richonne Zone," tap into Michonne's mindset, or Rick's, or Carl's, et cetera. Because I am not Richonne. So I'm not sure a lot of you understand how I have to block everything out in order to think like Richonne. That means removing the outside world. But when the outside world is as bleak and dreary as it is currently, it can be difficult to tap into TWD world. It's not simply getting a prompt and starting to write. It's getting that prompt, figuring out if it's canon, and if it's not how to make it canon, figure out how Richonne would work in said prompt, how to keep them canon in a prompt that may be A/U…. So again, I ask for your patience. Because I don't have the ability to just "get over myself."

I most likely will be posting tomorrow.


	88. Ollivanders

A/N: I'M BACK! Didn't think I would be but talking about all of this has REALLY helped. Thanks for all yall's support. I'm gonna leave the Notes up in case people need encouragement, or they haven't gotten on fan fic since the announcement.

* * *

 _NOT related to ANY other HP A/U I have =]_

 **OLLIVANDERS**

 **Rated K**

Rick walked into the shop, his heart hammering, more excited than he'd ever been.

Finally, _finally_ after eleven long years, this day was here.

Today was the day he would be getting his wand.

His parents tortured him – literally tortured him – by having him go everywhere in Diagon Alley except Ollivanders. First they had to go the Gringotts. Though the Wizarding Bank was magical with its majestic fire-breathing dragon out front and its tall, chandelier infested ceilings, he'd visited Gringotts with his parents _plenty_ of times before.

After Gringotts they went down Diagon Alley. Rick had also been here a few times before, but not too often. Rick figured he could have been here a million times and this specific trip would have been more special than ever before.

He grabbed a couple dozen of quills – he was _infamous_ for losing them – and then headed next door to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where he was fitted for an _hour_. Without meaning to he spent an hour of his own looking for the perfect owl – in the end he decided on a jet-black owl he named Harlem. He asked to head to Ollivanders after that but his parents suggested Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, and what child of eleven could ever say no to ice cream? It was the worst sort of trickery, the _distracting_ kind, but he did run into this boy, Shane, from his neighborhood.

After ice cream they went and grabbed his books. Rick rolled his eyes when he grabbed _A History of Magic_. It was one of his mother's favorite books, and Ms. Bagshot only lived a few doors down, and every time he went over there she talked about it. Rick felt he really didn't need this book, he swore he knew everything there was to know about history, but his mother had insisted, so he got it nonetheless.

Rick actually thought the cauldron shop was pretty cool. His parents wouldn't let him splurge on a gold cauldron, but they got him a silver one that he ended up really liking, and he secretly named Colt.

And then, _finally_ , his parents led him to Ollivanders.

It was said he remembered every wand he'd ever sold. He was the absolute best wand maker in wand making history, his brilliance unmatched in any other country.

Rick barged through the door, noticing that it was surprisingly empty. Merlin must have done Rick a solid you-owe-me – or the law of averages had finally caught up with him, since his parents had saved the best for last – but knowing that he didn't have to wait in line made Rick feel like it was all worth it.

Mr. Ollivander was behind the register, but smiled when he saw Rick. His eyes rested on his parents and he nodded.

"Grimes, Troy: ten-and-a-half-inch oak and heartstring; Beckham, Abigail: nine-and-three-quarter-inch walnut and unicorn." Mr. Ollivander started looking through his wands. "I wonder what wand your offspring will have."

It took _hours_ , so much so that Rick thought something might be wrong with him. Maybe the letter from Hogwarts was wrong. Maybe he wasn't a wizard. Maybe he was a squib and—

A warm tingling shot its way through Rick's arm as Ollivander thrust another wand at him. He stilled, looking at the dark wood, his hand suddenly warmer than ever.

It felt good. It felt _right_.

"Ahhh," sighed Mr. Ollivander. "Twelve-and-a-half-inch birch with a Phoenix Feather core. _That_ is a powerful wand. Use it carefully."

Rick smiled, suddenly excited all over again. He _wasn't_ broken.

They were just about to pay when the door opened, and another family walked into the shop.

Rick turned around and stared, his mouth dropping open as the most _beautiful_ girl he'd ever seen walked through the door.

He'd never thought a girl was beautiful before. He didn't even think they were pretty. They weren't even _cute_. Who had time for girls when there were things like Quidditch in the world?

But boy oh boy, beautiful was the only word he could think of.

She had dark braids in her hair, and she wore Muggle clothing. How someone could look so perfect in a long-sleeved white shirt and dark blue jeans was beyond Rick. She had the darkest eyes Rick had ever seen, and her skin was the color of the richest cocoa.

Her parents had several shopping bags on their arms, save for the owl. A snow white owl with ash grey eyes rested on the girl's shoulder, hooting softly.

The girl stared curiously around the shop, her eyes taking in the mess, before she finally noticed him. The two of them stared at each other for what felt like a century, Rick's heart hammering in his chest, his mouth suddenly dry, his mind blank.

He couldn't _think_.

And then she sent him a shy smile, and he felt his heart relocate to his stomach and his stomach relocate to his feet.

"I'll be with you in a moment, Dear," Ollivander told the girl, and she nodded. She gave Rick one last glance before starting to look around.

Rick's dad had just finished paying for his wand when the girl reached up and pulled a wand off the shelf.

He'd never seen anything like it.

He knew at once that she had found her wand. Was that even _possible_? Who'd ever heard of someone finding their wand so quickly?

But Rick recognized the look: the way her hand tightened around the wand, the way her eyes widened, the way she couldn't take her eyes off of it.

The wand had chosen her.

"I think I found my wand," she breathed quietly, and Rick had never heard words spoken so beautifully before.

Mr. Ollivander's head whipped towards her, and he smiled. "Well it's not unheard of, but it's certainly rare." He walked up to her, looking at the wand. "Fourteen-inch vine wood with a veela and Phoenix feather mix. It's a unique blend." He stared at her. "I daresay, my Dear, that you are a warrior."

Michonne smiled. "Thank you."

Mr. Ollivander smiled at her, and the girl walked towards the counter, her parents walking up so that they could pay.

Rick didn't see the way his mother elbowed his father, and motioned for him to head outside. Nor did Rick hear his mother tell his father _not_ to call for Rick to come.

"It's really cool that you found your wand so quickly," Rick told her.

She gave him another smile that had Rick going weak in the knees. "Thanks."

"I'm Rick." He held out his hand.

"Michonne." She shook his hand. "And this is my owl, Ember."

They continued shaking hands, staring at each other, for several moments. Neither of them heard Michonne's parent's laughs.

"I guess… I should probably go," Rick finally said. "My parents are waiting on me."

"Right. Mine too, I'll… see you on September first?"

Rick nodded. "Eleven sharp."

And just like that, Rick had something else to be excited for.

He couldn't _wait_ for school to start.

* * *

A/N: When I wrote this my cable was acting STUPID so I'm here watching my Harry Potter DVD and this came out of nowhere. :) We can say Michonne being part veela is just her Black Girl Magic.


	89. The Color of Love

A/N: Here's a fan fic that we should read now, just in case interracial dating is banned in the future. Because you know... Trump. Wrote this a while ago.

* * *

 _For the longest time I wanted to do a modern AU, and discuss in depth some of the conflict Richonne might have figuring Rick's a cop and cops keep killing Black people. I wanted to touch on the conversation they might have if Andre was approaching driving age. I wanted to explore how the things happening today would affect them…._

 _In the end I decided not to go there. Instead I will do a historical fic based LOOSELY on the Loving case. This, of course, is the case that made interracial marriage legal. There's a movie coming out about this case (Loving vs. Virginia) and so I thought I'd write about it. PLUS their names were Mildred and Richard, and if that's not a sign… I mean they share our beloved's initials!_

 _By no means am I a history major. I did do some research on this case (obviously) but there are, of course conflicting reports. The main source of confusion was her first child, Sidney. Sidney was born in 1957 according to ALL reports, but articles say she was married at 18 (around July) when she found out she was pregnant… that would have had Sidney being born in 1958, not January 1957 since Mildred was born in 1939. Plus, their second son, Donald, was born in Oct 1958. I just did the best I could with what I had LOL. It's not a biography darn it, just a historical AU haha._

 _Title taken from the Boyz II Men song of the same name. Not a song fic, but the chorus was in my head THE ENTIRE TIME I wrote this piece haha._

 _I know the Color Of Love,_ _  
_ _(And It lives in side of you)_ _  
_ _I know the color of truth,_ _  
_ _(Its in the image of you)_ _  
_ _If it comes for the heart, then you know that its true,_ _  
_ _It will color your soul, like a rainbow_ _  
_ _(Like a rainbow)_ _  
_ _And the color of love, is in you_

 **THE COLOR OF LOVE**

 **Rated M for smut**

 _1955_

Rick walked downstairs, the pounding on the door waking him out his slumber. He ran his fingers through his thick black hair, willing himself awake. It was three thirty in the morning; he had another half hour before he was supposed to be awake and he wasn't very happy about being woken up early.

He swung open the door and his blue eyes rested on the darkest shade of brown eyes he'd ever seen. He felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of her: her long hair cascaded down her back; her dark skin glistened in the early morning moonlight; her arms – strong and toned – held a basket of eggs, her nimble fingers clutching the handle.

"Michonne." He breathed her name out, never taking his eyes off of her, even as she lowered her gaze. Suddenly he remembered that her father was sick and that she was supposed to be coming around more.

"Mista Grimes," she said softly. "Lady hatched this mornin'."

He blinked at her. "Mr. Grimes is my father," said Rick with a slight edge to his voice. "You can call me Rick."

She looked at him again, briefly, before looking back down. "You know I can't."

He scowled and stared at her.

At one point, years and years ago, they were friends.

He still remembered the way they ran around his father's farm, playing hide and go seek, running through the corn mazes, hiding in the tobacco plants. They'd gotten in trouble many times hiding in the stables and causing a ruckus. They were close. They were _friends_.

 _Best_ friends.

And then one day… they weren't.

He understood. He'd be dumb not to know. Their kind didn't mix. They weren't supposed to mix.

She was Black, and he was white, and they came from different worlds.

He remembered the tears, the _screaming_ when Michonne's mother had scooped her up and marched her off of his land. She had told Michonne she was too old, that the time for play was over, that she needed to start working.

Rick had _begged_ his father to do something, but Mr. Grimes had agreed with Michonne's mother.

"It's time for you to mix with your own kind now," he had said, and that was that.

Rick hadn't seen much of Michonne since then, and that had been well over ten years ago. He was sixteen now, and she was fifteen, if he remembered correctly, and even though they were neighbors, they didn't run into each other very often.

It'd been at least five years since he'd last seen her.

He was about to invite her in. They had used to be _friends_ , damn it, surely he could invite her in for a couple of minutes. But as fate would have it, his father thundered his way down the stairs at that moment.

"Rick? I thought I heard the door." His father was still slipping on his shirt when he reached the door, and his eyes registered surprise. "Michonne. What are you doin' here?"

"Lady—"

She didn't even get to finish. "Well it's about time," beamed Rick's dad. "Come. Let's talk business."

…

Rick was plowing the field with his best friend Daryl when he saw her again, about a week later. He stopped what he was doing as he noticed her walk. He was slightly transfixed as he watched her. She had an air of confidence that he'd never seen in anyone, and he couldn't help but stare.

"You better be careful, man," mumbled Daryl. "Don't let no one catch you lookin' at her like that."

Rick glared at Daryl. "I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Yah you do, and you need to watch out. I ain't talkin' bout for you. I mean for her."

Rick narrowed his eyes. "I'm friends with you and don't give a shit what people say about it."

"I'm white trash, man. But I'm still white. Even if I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, I still got my skin color. 'Chonne don't got that."

" _Chonne_?" asked Rick, his eyes narrowing.

Daryl shrugged. "I see her around town every now and then. She's nice."

"I know." Rick glanced at her again. "We used to friends. A long time ago," he added softly. "And then one day her mom said we couldn't be friends anymore."

Daryl looked at Rick. "That's what you think happen'd?"

"It _is_ what happened. I was _there_."

Daryl sighed, shaking his head. "Your dad told Michonne's mom that you two were too old to still be friends, that it was against every rule there was for you two to still be seen together at your age."

Rick just stared at Daryl. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to say that wasn't his father's character, but then Rick thought about the way his father hadn't wanted him to be friends with Daryl… how Rick had to _beg_ his father to butt out. Rick had mentioned Michonne, and Rick remembered thinking he saw guilt in his father's eyes for the briefest of moments. And then it was over and gone so fast that Rick was sure he had imagined it. His father had given up, and had _allowed_ them to become friends, even giving Daryl a job a year ago. Rick shook his head, attempting to stay focused.

"What does it _matter_ that she's colored and I'm not?"

Daryl snorted. "Please don't ever call her colored again. I don't think she'd take too kindly to that word."

"Things are changin'. Can't you _feel_ it? They can learn with us now. What was that case? Brown vs. the Board of Education? And that woman who refused to give up her seat… she caused that boycott down south a couple of years ago."

"Yah, well, that's there. This here's Virgina. It's different. You know that."

Rick sighed, glancing at Daryl. "So you're sayin' I should jus'… let her go?"

Daryl snorted. "You never had her, man."

…

Rick threw the rock at her window, silently willing Michonne to wake up. He'd been out here for what felt like _hours_ attempting to get Michonne's attention.

He had just decided that he would give up – it was stupid of him to come here – when a light finally flicked on. He held his breath until Michonne's head poked through her window.

" _Rick_?" He could hear the surprise in her voice, her whisper carrying down to him thanks to the soft summer breeze. At least he'd convinced her to start calling him Rick when they were alone together. "What are you doing here?"

Suddenly unable to speak, he just motioned for her to come down. She stared at him for a few seconds before nodding, once. He could picture her creeping silently down her stairs and out the front door, making her way around back, where he stood with his heart in his throat.

"Hey," she said softly, and suddenly his mouth was drier than ever. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. "Rick? Is everything okay? Should I go get my dad?"

He could hear the underlying panic in her voice, and it finally gave him the courage to speak. "No. I jus'… wanted to see you."

She blinked at him, clearly taken aback. "I see."

"Daryl told me the truth about what happened all those years ago… about why we're no longer friends."

Michonne drew in a harsh breath. "Rick…." The sigh she gave him was a mixture of annoyance and tiredness. "That was a long time ago."

Rick shrugged. "You were still my best friend. And I still think about you. _A lot_." He looked at her, the insinuation obvious: he still thought about her, now more so than ever.

She looked down, looking away from his piercing gaze, her own heart suddenly hammering.

"I don't know what you want from me," Michonne said. "Goin' out of your way to see me when I come to talk business with your dad. Smiling at me whenever you see me. Asking me to call you Rick."

"What I want from you, is to stop pretendin' you don't feel the same pull for me that I do for you." Michonne blinked. "Cus you been starin' at me jus' as much I been starin' at you, and you been smilin' back." There was a slight challenge in his voice, almost daring her to disagree with him.

"So what if I am?" snapped Michonne. "It ain't like we can do anything about it. We come from two different worlds—"

"Last time I checked, you live one house down from me."

She shook her head. "You don't get it."

"No, I do. I jus' don't _care_. You're different. You've always been different. Even when were kids, I…." His voice trailed off. "It was different. _This_ is different."

"It's unheard of, Rick."

"So is blacks and white goin' to school together, but they're doin' so now."

Michonne rolled her eyes. "You could have anyone, Rick. Lori. Andrea. Jessie. They all throw themselves at you. I've seen all of them try at some point these past few weeks."

"Yah well, I don't want _them_. When you showed up with those eggs, I coulda jus' taken them, but I didn't. It must've been somethin' else, then, and I think it's safe to say it was you. Cus had it been anyone else…."

"Rick, it's late," sighed Michonne. "Go home."

He watched as she turned on her heels and walked back towards the house.

…

A month later Rick was out back, in the garden, with Hershel, the family priest. Rick had never seen anything like him. He'd never known of a priest that would get down on his hands and knees in the dirt.

"See," Hershel was saying, "even when things break, it can still grow." Rick had just started to nod when he heard hooves against the ground. He quickly stood up.

"They're back," yelled Daryl, and then Rick was running. He breathed a little easier when he saw Michonne, her long hair flying behind her. Rick watched in silent awe as she got the horse to slow down and come to an eventual stop. She got off the horse, making her way to him.

"Glad to see you," Rick said as he jogged up to her, a slight smile on his face.

"Glad to see you too," she said, a smile tugging on her own lips.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "It's like a damn romance novel in here," muttered Daryl. He hit Rick's stomach gently and started to head off.

"You were able to get the stuff and thangs my dad needed?"

"Yah." He nodded, looking her up and down without even realizing he was doing so.

For a moment it was like no one else existed.

"I should probably go and see your dad," Michonne finally said.

"Right," nodded Rick. "I'll put Buttercup away. I'll see you later?"

She stared at him for a few moments before nodding, a soft smile on her face.

He watched her go, gently stroking Buttercup as he watched Michonne disappear. Then he guided his horse back to the stable, putting her in her rightful place. He gently brought his lips to the horse, kissing her, silently thanking her for bringing Michonne back safely.

…

Rick grunted softly and buried his face in Michonne's neck. The desire to scream was overwhelming, so he sunk his teeth into her neck, willing himself to ignore the way her body jerked underneath his. She slid her legs around his waist, tightening her grip on him, her nails digging into his back.

He sped up, his need for her borderline desperate. She moaned – loudly – but for once he didn't have to quiet her. They were alone in the house tonight. Her mother was at the hospital, with her dad, who had taken a turn for the worse earlier that day.

Rick had just wanted to be there for her. Michonne had taken the news rather hard, especially because there was help out there, they just didn't have the money for it. Michonne's mother had left earlier that day and claimed she wouldn't be home until the morning, so Rick had waited until his parents were asleep before sneaking off to Michonne's.

She'd been all over him, seeking comfort, and he had obliged, because she _needed_ him. They'd been doing this for months now, their first time happening quite innocently – he had surprised her with a pack of mints, her favorite, and she'd been so happy that she'd flung herself into his arms, her lips on his, and he'd denied himself the pleasure of kissing her for _months_ , so when it finally happened, neither of them had been able to stop, so they'd done it under the cover of night, in her backyard, near her mother's rose garden.

He'd been embarrassed because he'd cum in seconds, and figuring it was his first time, he had no idea how to make her finish. She'd assured him that it was okay, that it was her first time too and that they'd learn together.

He knew enough now to know that she was close. He would never, ever, tire of hearing her moan out his name, or cry out with pleasure. He could spend the rest of his days hearing her whimper as she came undone. It always set him off, and even after all this time he hadn't quite mastered how to force himself not to release yet.

So when her back arched, and she choked out his name, and clenched tightly around him, he cursed and released, both of them chanting the other's name until their voices were hoarse and their thrusts came to a halt. He collapsed on top of her, feeling her heartbeat racing, just as much as his was. Their bodies were slick with sweat and he tried desperately to catch his breath so he could move.

He kissed her neck, his lips making contact with her earlobe.

"I love you," she whispered, and he froze.

It was the first time she'd ever said it.

 _He'd_ said it before, making a complete fool of himself during their first time, the moment he'd entered her. She'd just been so tight and warm and it had felt so _right_ that his only thought was of love, so he'd blurted it out before he could think it through, before he could _stop_ himself, and she stared at him, her dark eyes wide with shock, and he started moving to distract her, and it had worked.

She never brought it up, but he'd said it a few more times over the past few months, only after she'd fallen asleep after their love making, or before his father sent her on a run that had her leaving.

Lately she'd been responding with a soft smile and a gentle, "I know," before cupping his cheek and placing her lips delicately on his.

Rick looked at her now, his eyes searching hers. "I love you too," he told her.

"It's dangerous, and stupid, what we're doing."

Rick shook his head. "Maybe so, but it won't stop me from loving you."

…

 _1956_

Rick stared at Michonne, trying his hardest to comprehend what it is she was saying, but apparently his brain wasn't working. He just continued to look at her, too stunned to say anything.

And then—

"Are you sure?" he breathed.

She gave a single, curt nod, her own voice forsaking her.

Rick kept quiet, trying to find the words. Lori had accused him of not being able to communicate – years and years ago, when he was about thirteen, when he had been courting her. They'd broken up shortly after that, and she'd taken up with the Sherriff's son, Shane, though it was obvious she had still had feelings for him.

Like Jessie and Andrea had too, Michonne had reminded him what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Rick took another harsh breath, smoke billowing out of his mouth from the March air, his mind going a million miles a minute.

Whenever there was loss of life, there was also new life. It was ironic to find this news out around the same time Michonne's father died.

"I opened up an account at B&C Jewels," blurted out Rick.

Michonne blinked at him. " _What_?"

"I did it last week. I was hopin' to have enough saved so that I could ask you to marry me on your birthday next year. You'd be eighteen…."

Michonne was quiet for the longest time yet. "You wanna marry me?"

"Yah," nodded Rick, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I didn't plan on tellin' you so soon. Obviously I wanted it to be a surprise. But I thought I should tell you now, so that when I do ask you, you won't think it's cus of the baby. I _wanna_ marry you, Michonne."

 _1957_

The baby was an exact replica of Michonne, save for the eyes. He had his father's eyes.

Carl.

Such a handsome baby boy, with a head full of dark curls, blue eyes big enough to swim in, and the prettiest shade of brown skin he'd ever seen, save for Michonne's.

It was a cold January night when she'd gone into labor, and she hadn't given birth until the sun had been high in the sky. Rick had been there the entire time, pacing the living room as he heard Michonne's screams.

When Rick finally held Carl in his arms he didn't think he could ever be happier. Here was this beautiful, precious, little boy – _his_ beautiful, precious, little boy. His _son_.

Half the time he still couldn't believe it.

As time passed Rick started to fall more and more in love with Michonne, and their son.

Others didn't feel the same way.

Even though their families were supportive for the most part, the rest of the town was not as forgiving. Most people were shunning them both, but Michonne more so than him. People he thought were his friends had quickly turned their backs on him, save for Daryl.

Besides him and Carl, the only person Michonne had was her cousin and best friend Sasha, who vowed to be there no matter what.

 _1958_

Rick was thankful for Sasha. Michonne needed her, like he needed Daryl.

It was the two of them Rick and Michonne turned to in order to watch Carl while Michonne and Rick went to DC to get married.

It was one of the best days of his life, particularly when they got back to Virginia and he got to bring her home to the very house he had help build, Daryl and Sasha inside with Carl in their arms, a simple WELCOME HOME banner on display.

Life, for once, felt surreal.

…

When the police barged into their bedroom in the middle of the night, Rick sat up, startled, his hand instinctively reaching out for Michonne.

There was a lot of commotion, but Rick knew what they were doing here. They had hoped to catch them in the act. Interracial sex was illegal.

"Who is she to you?" an officer asked Rick, but he couldn't speak.

Michonne answered for him. "I'm his wife." Rick pointed to the marriage certificate.

The officer looked at the plaque on the wall. "This has no power here," the Sherriff said coldly. "Arrest them."

…

It turned out marrying elsewhere didn't make a world of difference. In fact, it was against the law to come back here after marrying somewhere else. Rick spent a day in jail while Michonne spent several days in jail, and no matter how much Rick begged, pleaded, and cried, they wouldn't release her.

In the end they plead guilty and was sentenced to one year in jail, unless they took a plea deal. They would not have to spend any time in jail if they were to leave the state for twenty-five years. They agreed, and moved to DC.

Things were okay, for a while.

They had another baby in October. Andre. If possible he was just as perfect as Carl had been when he was born.

When he realized they couldn't get in the car and share their newborn with their families, Rick and Michonne realized that twenty-five years was a long time.

 _1959 on_

They lasted for nearly ten years, living in DC, dealing with seeing their parents at the same time only once a year for Christmas, and visiting their respective loved ones individually.

Rick would take the kids to visit his parents one weekend, and she'd do the same another weekend.

Never together. Never at the same time.

The one time they did, they were arrested again.

So, they played by their rules, until it became unbearable.

They had three children now. They had vowed that their daughter, Judith, would be their last, though she had brought as much joy to their lives as Carl and Andre.

Despite the fact that they loved each other, Michonne and Rick weren't _happy_. It had nothing to do with their feelings for each other and everything to do with outside circumstances.

The fact that they couldn't visit their families together, and with how expensive it was to live in DC… it was just always something to worry about.

When Carl was hit by a car in 1963, Michonne had had enough of the city. She had written to Sasha, just venting, and she had suggested that Rick and Michonne write to General Kennedy about their circumstances.

He wrote back, suggesting they get in touch with the American Civil Liberties Union. Their case was accepted, but in January of 1965 the court refused to turn over their original sentence.

"Almighty God created the races, white, black, yellow, and red, and he placed them on separate continents," presiding Judge Leon M. Bazile wrote. "And but for the interference with his arrangement there would be no cause for such marriages. The fact that he separated the races shows that he did not intend for the races to mix."

Never one to give up, Rick and Michonne took their case all the way to the Supreme Court.

It was a long, grueling process, and there were nights Michonne was sure it would never end. It seemed everywhere else things were changing, even down south. Not a day went by that she didn't see Dr. King on the television screen, making a difference in people's lives. But if they could do it, then so could they. They would continue to fight the court, showing up and pleading their case every time they were asked.

When asked, when they had to explain to the court _why_ they even wanted this, Rick's answer was simple: "Tell the court that I love my wife, and it's just unfair I can't live with her in Virginia."

In Michonne's mind, that would always be what made all the difference. If that truth didn't work… then that was it. They left the court that day, the cameras flashing, their heads held high, and waited for the court's response.

 _Months_ passed. So much so that they they thought they would never hear back from the courts.

Finally, one day in June, they got the verdict they wanted to hear. The Supreme Court had overturned the ruling. It felt like every bad thing was worth it in that moment. Rick grabbed her face, resting his forehead against hers, both of them breathing deeply as it sunk in: it was no longer illegal for Blacks and whites to be married.

Rick would be lying in bed, years later, in the same home that he'd built in Virginia all those years ago, and watching his wife as she slept soundly by his side. It would hit him, at the most random time, that he knew the color of love.

It lived inside of her, he realized.

Love never should have, and now never will, know a true color.

There _was_ no color of love.

There was just… love. And they were living proof of that.

* * *

A/N: people/mildred-loving-5884 this is the site I got some of the information from.

Also, after the Notes I wrote in regards to Trump somehow now running this country, one user wrote this in a review, and I told her that I'd post it in this one-shot: "I think that you were able to address this was important. you write about an IR couple and that's why I thought this should be explored in your prompts. the way you have tackled or haven't is interesting because it matters. it always matters and should even when two people from different races love each other. it's a good time more than ever to examine how we as a people subconsciously support these ideas through multiple facets of social integration."

Trump is in office. SOMEHOW I have to come to terms with that. NO I will NEVER accept it, and my biggest fear is Trump, and his gang of bigoted assholes, will undo all this nation has accomplished. But we have to always remember to let love rule. I am not a product of an interracial couple, nor am I in one. I am a Black woman who loves Black men, but if anyone tried to take away a person's right to love one another… ESPECIALLY based on their race…. I mean just no. How dumb is that? SO. Vive Richonne, and all the other relationships like it.


	90. Mr and Mrs Grimes

_This came from a discussion on TiTTD when we were discussing if Richonne would marry or not (because there was some discussion on if Michonne would want to marry because she hadn't married Mike). I made the statement that Michonne was gon' learn today and would need to take the proper steps to get used to the idea of being Mrs. Grimes. This is a series of times that someone might have referred to Michonne as Rick's wife. =]_

 _Title is just a play on words from the infamous "Me and Mrs. Jones" by Billy Paul._

 _These drabbles are not in any order._

 _This does contain a prompt—"_ _Please write a really jealous rick I love those! (after 6x10)!:) –Guest. The prompt has **** next to it._

 _Official prompt (my own): Four times Michonne was called Mrs. Grimes when she wasn't married, and the one time she was._

 **ME AND MRS. GRIMES**

 **Rated T**

-NEW NEIGHBORS-

Daryl, Carl, Rick, Judith, and Michonne were seated around the table when they heard a knock on the door. They all stared at each other for a few seconds before Daryl stood up to go and answer the door. Rick and Michonne stood up as well.

"Evening!" said a cheery voice. "I'm Mrs. Johnson, and this is my daughter Amber."

"Hi," said a tiny shy voice.

"We're one of the new neighbors that came in a few days ago."

"Of course," Rick said. "We remember." Alexandria had finally finished its expansion and had let in a small group about a week ago. Mrs. Johnson and her daughter were one of the ones that had just moved in. "Is Mrs. Grimes home?"

Michonne slowly turned to look at Rick, who seemed amused.

"Yah," Daryl said, a smile in his voice. "Mrs. Grimes is definitely home." When Daryl glanced at her he had a smirk on his face. Michonne narrowed her eyes at him. "Come on in."

Mrs. Johnson walked inside, glancing around. "What a beautiful home."

"Thank you," Michonne said softly, walking up to them.

"Mrs. Grimes, thank you for seeing me. Amber, say hi,"

"Hi, Mrs. Grimes," said Amber.

Michonne tried not to cringe. "Please, call me Michonne."

"She will not. I guess you can just say I am old-fashioned, but you are her elder, so she will call you by your surname if you don't mind." Michonne heard Carl snicker while Rick folded his arms across his chest, his eyebrow raised. Daryl looked as if Christmas had come early.

"Look Mom, a baby!" Amber said.

Michonne turned towards the table, where Amber was pointing. "That's Judith," stated Michonne.

"She's actually the reason we're here," Mrs. Johnson replied. She stepped closer to Michonne. "I know Judith and Amber are about a year apart. I thought maybe they could be playmates. I used to run a daycare center before the Turn, so I could watch them. I'm just anxious for Amber to make friends. She's very social."

Michonne glanced at Rick.

"Mrs. Grimes and I think that's a great idea," Rick said with a smile. Michonne glared at him and he laughed. "I'm sure you two can figure out a place and a time." Rick jerked his head and he and Daryl headed outside, Carl on their heels. She could hear them laughing even with the door closed.

-DAYCARE-

Michonne knocked on the door and walked inside the house. It was full of toys and all the children were currently watching Leap Frog on the television screen. It looked like something she would have experienced before the Turn, and it caught her off guard momentarily.

"Mrs. Grimes!" said the daycare instructor. "Perfect timing. Judith just finished eating. I'll go and get her."

Michonne nodded and smiled, unable to tell Liseth _once again_ that her name was _Michonne_. Sure she and Rick _lived_ together. Yes, they _were_ together. But they were _not_ married. She didn't carry his last name officially.

But let Mrs. Johnson or Liseth tell it, she and Rick had exchanged vows at the church.

It's not that she _minded_ the thought of being Rick's wife. She had just never had time to really think about it. In essence they _were_ married. Who had time for an actual ceremony in a world like this?

Still, it took some getting used to, having people refer to her as Mrs. Grimes.

She found she didn't really mind it all _that_ much.

****-WHAT'S YOUR LAST NAME-

Ezekiel looked Michonne up and down, clearly impressed. The woman was a warrior, no questions asked, and possessed a quiet strength that was rare. He had never met anyone like her before.

He watched as Rick and the rest of his crew listened to her. She was clearly respected, and probably more so the leader than Rick was. They followed Rick's lead, but following Rick's lead meant they were really following Michonne's.

She was that incredible.

Ezekiel kept quiet. He just kept observing her. She was close with Rick, he could tell, but how close he wasn't sure. He looked at her for guidance, there was clearly trust there, but Ezekiel couldn't gage how close they were.

Mutual respect. Trust. Friendship. They cared about each other, obviously, and had each other's back.

He wondered if there was anything more than that.

He'd been watching them for a while, taking it all in, trying to figure it out.

They were all walking back towards the RV. They'd spend the last few hours brainstorming and figuring out how to take down Negan. Rick would be headed to the Hilltop to drop off Jesus next, and then heading back to Alexandria.

Michonne would be right there with him, by his side.

"Thank you for your time," Michonne told Ezekiel.

"I'll always make time for you," he told her with a smile. She stared at him quizzically and his smile widened. "Anyone ever tell you that you have a beautiful name?"

"My whole life," responded Michonne.

"It _is_ a beautiful name. It's fitting."

Michonne shifted. "Can't say I haven't heard that one before."

Ezekiel laughed. "You got a last name to go along with that first one?"

"Grimes," both Carl and Rick said at the same time. Rick and Carl glanced at each other, clearly not impressed with Ezekiel's flirting, before turning back to Ezekiel. Michonne sent them both a smirk while Jesus snickered.

"Figures. I'm not even surprised."

"Neither was anyone else," Daryl said, patting Ezekiel on the back. The rest of the group walked into the RV.

"We'll see you next time," said Rick with a nod. Ezekiel nodded and waved, watching them until they disappeared.

-PROPOSAL-

Rick groaned and then sighed, content, still breathless as he rolled off of Michonne. He shifted until he was comfortable and then Michonne rested her head on his chest.

"That was amazing," she said. She slid her hand into his, intertwining their hands and caressing his fingers.

"Yes it was," said Rick, kissing the top of her head. The two of them laid in silence for several moments, playing with each other's fingers as they drifted off to sleep.

"What are you thinking about?" Michonne asked. Rick didn't respond; instead he just looked at her. "I can hear the wheels turning in that brain of yours."

Rick took a deep breath. "Mrs. Grimes…."

Michonne stilled and then looked up at him, her brow furrowed. "What?"

"What would you say if I asked you to marry me?"

Michonne sat up so that she could fully stare at Rick, her heart pounding. "Are you asking?"

He looked at her and then cupped her cheek. "Would you say yes?"

Michonne searched Rick's eyes for several moments. "Ask me and find out."

Rick stared at her and nodded. "I will."

Michonne nodded. "Good."

-HOLY MATRIMONY-

Rick stared at Michonne, unable to even make out what Father Gabriel was saying. All he knew was that he was marrying the woman of his dreams, despite the circumstances that had brought them together.

"Rick," whispered Michonne, and he shook his head, having clearly zoned out. "You're supposed to kiss me."

He blinked at her. "What?"

"I _said_ ," Father Gabriel stated, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Rick chuckled and then stepped up to Michonne, cupping her cheeks as he looked into her eyes.

"I love you," whispered Rick.

"I know."

Rick looked at her. "How?"

"Cause I love you too."

He nodded and kissed her. Neither of them heard the cheers of their friends as they kissed. It was everything he thought it would be.

When he pulled away he looked at her. "How does it feel being Mrs. Grimes?"

Michonne smiled. "It feels like it always has," she responded.

Rick laughed and kissed her again.

* * *

A/N: The second to last drabble came from TiTTD website, we were talking about Richonne and I said I was going to write a fan fic to it.

Secondly: to the guest who left the Richonne/Maggie prompt: YES! Loved it.

Lastly: to the Guest who requested I stop the Trump hate and focus on Richonne: no. This is my life, and my livelihood, and the life of other's as well. Richonne doesn't and won't change that. All these people have needed to hear what I've had to say. I won't stop speaking. And I won't apologize for it.


	91. The Coffee Shop

_Same Universe as 'The Art Gallery.' (Chap 66)._

 **THE COFFEE SHOP**

 **Rated K**

Rick stood in line, a couple of people in front of him, and waited to order his coffee. He didn't mind the wait, he was lost in his own thoughts, thinking about everything he had to do today,

Something caught his attention—something… familiar. It took him a few moments to realized what it was: the scent of sunflowers. His first initial thought was to spin around and see if it was her, but he played it cool and just glanced behind him.

"I thought that was you," she said with a smile.

"Michonne," breathed Rick. "How are you?"

"I'm well. How are you?"

"Better now." Once again he wondered if he was flirting with her. It wouldn't be the first time, and she seemed to have that effect on people. "What are you doin' in town durin' summer vacation?"

Rick saw the way she hesitated, briefly. "I… was actually getting the last of my things from the school. Today is the last day of my two weeks' notice."

Rick gaped. "You're not gonna be teachin' anymore?"

"An opportunity to open up my own art gallery opened up shortly after the art event. My loan was approved from the bank, so…."

"Carl's gonna be crushed. You were an outsider here in King's County, but you've earned your keep. He vowed he'd come visit you every day."

Michonne laughed. "On the last day of school that's exactly what he said. Nothing was official then, so I didn't mention anything. I regret it now, of course. I never got a chance to say goodbye."

"I can tell him goodbye for you." She nodded. "When's the grand openin'?"

"Not until the fall. There's _a lot_ of work to be done. I'm renovating one of the older buildings in downtown Atlanta. I have never budged so hard in my life, and I have to do a lot of the work myself to make sure I stay on track. It makes for slow labor."

Rick blinked. "You know, there's a group of kids… not necessarily bad kids, but they found themselves in some trouble: ditchin' school, or underage drinkin'. Typical actin' out stuff. Their punishment was to help with local volunteerin'. They still have a couple of months left. I'm more than sure I can get it approved to have them help you."

"Really? You could do that?"

"Let me ask the Sherriff." He paused. "Sherriff says yes."

Michonne laughed. "That would be amazing. I could honestly use the help."

"Carl and I can pitch in as well. He leaves for summer camp in a few weeks, but it'll be nice to make sure he stays outta trouble."

"Any excuse to see Carl again."

"Oh, just Carl?"

Michonne's dark eyes twinkled. "I was actually hopin' you'd ask me out again."

"Oh, no. Bein' shot down once was enough for me, thank you."

"You _know_ I had to say no. There was no way it'd be appropriate to go out together when I was Carl's teacher."

"I asked you out after the art gallery. School woulda been out in two weeks, and Carl would then be a sophomore and there wouldn'ta been an issue."

Michonne smiled. "I didn't say no because I wanted to."

Before Rick could respond the cashier signaled that it was his turn. He turned and walked up to the counter. "Vanilla bean Frappuccino, please, and… whatever this beautiful lady behind me wants."

She seemed surprised. "Thank you." She looked at the cashier. "I'll take a Teavana Mango Black Tea."

"Sure thing, Sherriff," the cashier said.

"Thanks, Glenn." Michonne and Rick moved off to the side to wait for their drinks. "Y'know I'm supposed to be takin' Carl to the mall today. He won't stop growin' and he needs more clothes before he heads off to summer camp. If you're headed back downtown maybe we can hook up later."

Michonne smiled. "Oh, using Carl as a way to lure me?"

"Well I figure it's one way to get you to say yes."

"I can think of a few places to meet." She glanced at her watch. "It's ten in the morning now. You're boys so you don't need that much time to shop. Can we say one for lunch?"

Rick smiled. "It sounds like a date."

"A date wouldn't include your son. You'll have to ask me properly for that." Rick smiled and pulled out his phone. " _What_ is _that_?"

"My phone."

"It's _ancient_."

"Hey you try bein' a single parent and see what you can afford."

"I _am_ a single parent," she told him.

Rick paused. "Oh."

Michonne smiled fondly. "His name is Andre Anthony, and he's currently visiting with his grandparents for the summer."

"Well I hope to meet him one day."

Michonne stared at Rick for several seconds. "You have to be pretty special to meet my son. We'll see how you do, Sherriff Grimes." She snatched his phone and entered her number, and then called herself. After she handed back his phone Glenn shouted out their order. Michonne walked up to the counter, grabbing their drinks, and handed Rick his. "I'll see you in a few hours."

Rick watched her as she headed out. "Yes you will," he said to himself.


	92. Dance With Me

A/N: Prompt alone contains slight future speculation spoilers. Read at your own risk.

* * *

" _Wanna know what would be adorable?_

 _Like, a couple seasons down the row, after Negan is dead or put in the cage or whatever happens to him, they all throw a party. Like Alexandria, the Kingdom, the Hilltop. Just all the peeps and Rick asking Michonne to dance even though he has no idea how to. So she kinda has to teach him to dance but she really can't because she's laughing too hard at how bad he is."_

 _Not an official prompt, but this was posted on the TiTTD site and I said I would write it for them._

 **DANCE WITH ME**

 **Rated K**

There was music playing in the background - not too loudly, there was no need to attract walkers - but loudly enough for people to be bobbing their heads and tapping their feet. A few brave souls were actually dancing together.

It was a day of celebration, as was evident with the green balloons tied festively along, placed strategically around.

The gates of Alexandria stood wide open – for once there was no threat to worry about; no unwanted visitors who could or would make their way into Alexandria at the moment. They didn't even have anyone on watch.

Not today.

No, not today.

Negan, or his gang of Saviors, were no longer a threat.

Alexandria was busier than usual. People hustled and bustled about, smiles on their faces, waving to their neighbors and to all of the visitors. Kids played outside, running around, playing tag. They were _happy_ again.

Their threat had been terminated.

Rick stood outside, a soft smile on his face as he watched the group of people - his people, all of them - the wind rustling his dark hair flecked with grey. His blue eyes seemed lighter than they had in _weeks_. His steps were lighter too. He took a small sip of his brown liquor, not really tasting it. He was drinking more so to seem social. Even though there currently was nothing to worry about, he was still the leader. It was his job to worry.

"It's okay to have fun," said a familiar voice. Rick grinned and turned to Jesus, not at all surprised that Jesus could see through him. Rick's mind returned to a time and place long ago, in a setting similar in a lot ways except mentally.

 _"You don't have to be_ ," Reg had told Rick in regards to being good when he had first arrived in Alexandria.

"I know," Rick told Jesus, the memory fading. "I'm workin' on it." He took another sip as if to prove his point and Jesus lifted his beer, as if to toast Rick's words.

The two of them stood together, taking in the scene before them. Though they were looking at the same people, Rick doubted very much that Jesus was thinking the same thoughts Rick was. Jesus hadn't known all of these people for as long as he had.

Take Morgan and Benjamin. Rick knew that Morgan had mentored Ben, and Rick couldn't help but think of all the things Benjamin had done for Morgan. The quiet sadness of having lost his family was still evident in Morgan's eyes, but it wasn't overwhelming. He had gotten over his need to clear, and his worry of what constantly killing meant. He knew that there were hard decisions to make, and he was no longer afraid to make them. Jesus wouldn't know about Morgan's wife, or Duane, or that Morgan had been the first person to save his life.

Enid walked passed them, heading to the refreshment table, refilling her cup with fruit punch. Jesus might suspect, but he didn't _know_ all the difficulties that girl had faced. There was a lightness in her eyes now that Rick had never seen before - he had no doubt both Carl and Maggie had something to do with that.

Thinking of Maggie Rick watched as she played with Hershel Jr., looking both like his maternal grandfather and his father. Jesus would have no clue about the young girl from the farm, and the hardships she had endured from the Governor all the way to Negan. Jesus worked along side Maggie now, but he wouldn't know Maggie still being here was nothing short of miracle, having lost her father, sister, and husband. And Rick would always be grateful for Dr. Carson, who was standing a few feet away, also taking in the scene. He'd saved Maggie's life.

They stared at Sasha, Rick's eyes lingering on her. There was a time he thought she'd never smile again. She too had lost more than Jesus knew: her brother, her boyfriend Bob, and then Abraham. It felt good to see her laughing with Maggie, because Rick remembered all too well the pain in Sasha's eyes when Abraham brutally lost his life. He remembered the anger - the _disdain_ \- for living after having lost Bob and Tyreese.

Carl laughing with Judith distracted them from Sasha. Both Jesus and Rick looked at the two children. Jesus would be happy that Carl and Judith were alive and well, but he couldn't be as grateful as Rick was. To have two healthy children, alive and well in this day and age and in this world, was more than Rick could ask for. Jesus wouldn't know that Rick and Carl had gotten into an argument over something as trivial as a haircut today. Long gone were the days where Carl was sneaking out, trying to destroy their enemy while Rick was doing everything in his power to keep them alive.

Nor did Jesus know that Carl was asking to move to Hilltop to learn how to make weapons.

Jesus wouldn't know Judith wasn't biologically his. He would just know of Rick's plan - his _hope_ \- that he would be around for years and years to come in order to protect Judith, show her how to survive in this world. Jesus would help with that.

As would Daryl, who was currently laughing with Carol. Jesus would never know or understand the depths of that friendship; how much the two of them had in common, from Daryl's child abuse to Carol being an abused wife. Did Jesus even know Carol had been married? That she had had a daughter? Rick doubted it. It didn't matter, in the grand scheme of things. Jesus had risked his life, the same as Rick had, for the people he didn't _know_ but had defended nonetheless.

The same as King Ezekiel. Rick had no problem calling him that now. In truth, the man _was_ a king, and Rick had grown to respect the hell out of him. King Ezekiel had seen death - all of them had - and his eyes had dimmed somewhat. He had never wanted this burden, he had never wanted to lose so many people, but he had seen the bigger picture, and he had fought with and for them. Now he laughed with Aaron, both of them for once at ease, a glass of wine in both of their hands.

Michonne walked up to Ezekiel and Aaron then, no doubt playing host, and Rick's breath caught in his throat. She and Jesus had formed a friendship as well, but how much did he know about Michonne? Did he know how often she had saved Rick's life? That she had taken on the role of mother to Carl and Judith without ever needing blood... that she had given new meaning to the phrase lover and friend? And how could Jesus know the amount of love Rick had for Michonne? How could _anyone_ even _begin_ to understand the depths Rick would go through to ensure this woman's safety? She was his warrior, his best friend, his _life_ , and when she poured some more wine into Aaron's glass, and the sun made her wedding ring glisten, Rick was also reminded that she was his _wife_.

In essence, she was his.

She laughed at something Ezekiel had said - he was no doubt flirting with Michonne, and who the hell could blame him? At that moment the three of them glanced at him and Jesus, Michonne's eyes twinkling with amusement. Rick arched an eyebrow and Michonne winked at him. Then she turned back towards Ezekiel, poured him some more wine, and then walked away.

Father Gabriel passed her, nodding softly, a quiet smile on his face. Rick felt a surge of warmth for the priest. Jesus wouldn't know about the history with Father Gabriel: his early cowardice, his own sins weighing heavily on him. The betrayal when they had first arrived at Alexandria. And his undeniable need to redeem himself. His protection of Judith... his desire to protect Judith by constantly risking his own life from the time the Wolves had attacked, and even during the war with Negan, would forever be appreciated by Rick. Jesus would see, not not necessarily understand, the bond the two of them had formed.

He had, after all, married him and Michonne.

At that moment the music got a little bit louder, enough for Rick and Jesus to turn and see Michonne pulling Sasha and Maggie to the middle of the field, swaying her hips. Maggie and Sasha laughed, both of them shaking their heads, but Michonne was convincing, and pretty soon the three of them were dancing together. Enid walked up to Carl, a smirk on her lips, and his son, God bless him, was a braver soul than he, because a few seconds later he was pulling her to the field to join Maggie, Michonne, and Sasha. Hershel Jr. and Judith seemed to get in the spirit; the two of them started bouncing, both of them off rhythm.

Well maybe Judith _was_ his, Rick mused fondly.

Father Gabriel grabbed Carol from Daryl, which made Jesus snort.

At that moment Jennie exited the house. Some of the younger kids from the Kingdom, Hilltop, and Alexandria were hanging out, pretending to be too cool to hang out with the adults. At the sound of the music, though, most of them came from out of the house and started dancing together - their dancing much different from the adults. Rick supposed even in the apocalypse some things never changed.

At that moment Maggie and Michonne glanced at Jesus and Rick.

"Uh oh," Jesus said. "That doesn't look good."

"No it doesn't," agreed Rick. Sure enough, the two of them walked towards them, both of them with smiles on their faces. There was a glint in Michonne's eyes that had Rick backing up. "Oh no. Whatever it is, absolutely not."

Michonne threw her head back and laughed. "Dance with me."

Rick shook his head. "I don't dance."

"Course you do," Maggie stated, "and so does Jesus."

Jesus shook his head as well. "I'm actually good on that."

"Both of you _will_ dance, so head to the field, _now_." When Maggie used that tone of voice, you didn't argue. She'd learned that tone from Michonne. Rick glanced at Jesus, who shrugged. Rick took his drink, threw the rest of it back, and grabbed Michonne's outstretched hand.

"I'm really, really bad," Rick warned Michonne.

"You can't be _that_ bad. There's a correlation between dancing and..." Michonne's voice trailed but her eyes glistened with mischievousness. Rick felt his heart relocate to his stomach.

"That's false," said Rick, his face growing warm.

Michonne laughed as they approached the rest of the group. Turning to him she grabbed his hips. "Let me teach you then."

"This is a really bad idea," Rick muttered.

"Relax." She backed away. "Listen to the music and just start moving." Rick reluctantly did as he was told, and Michonne stopped and stared, her mouth open. "Oh my God." And then she burst out laughing.

Rick scowled at her. "I'm outta here."

"Wait," gasped Michonne. She grabbed him, her smile still way too wide for his liking. "Just sway from side to side, like this." She showed him and Rick attempted to follow. Michonne laughed again. "I'm sorry. You really are _bad_." He stared stonily at her. "But it's adorable," she assured him, bringing him to her and wrapping her arms around his waist. She planted a soft kiss on his lips, and at that moment the music slowed down. "Perfect," purred Michonne.

Turning around she grabbed his arms and put them around her. She started rocking her hips against his, going to the rhythm of the slow song.

"Stop thinking and just let the feeling of love take over," Michonne whispered. Rick tightened his hands on her waist, following her lead.

Now _this_ he knew how to do, he thought.

And like always, whenever Michonne was around, he forgot anyone else existed.

For once, he had no one or nothing else to think about.

* * *

I left what happened to Negan open. Either he could die or be put in prison. I am on the #NeganMustDie train myself. Also, I am not aboard the Carol/Zeke ship AT ALL, and I thought Gabe and Carol dancing would be HILARIOUS. This is not me shipping Maggie and Jesus, I just love their relationship (though if there was ever a crack ship for me, which I don't believe in, it's Jesus and Maggie LOL).


	93. Thank You

_Because this was THE MOTHER of ALL kisses like EVER. Wanted to get inside Richonne's head during that lovely kiss in 7x5. The "thank you" Rick whispers to Michonne after the kiss spoke SO MANY volumes that I'm STILL not over it._

 **THANK YOU**

 **Rated T**

Michonne watched as another dart missed its target and landed alongside the dart board, poking another hole in the wall. This one didn't even stay lodged inside the wall, it fell and hit the floor with a soft thud.

"You should come with us," Rick was saying.

Carl sighed. "Someone's gotta be here for Judith." Michonne couldn't say she cared too much for Carl's tone, but she kept quiet, leaning against Carl's bedroom wall, letting the two most important men in her life figure it out.

"There's people who wanna help," reasoned Rick to his son. "We'll only be gone a few days at the most. We need supplies, they're gonna be coming back soon—"

"Is this how it's gonna be now?" Carl snapped.

" _Yes_ ," snapped back Rick, "it is." Carl shook his head, clearly irritated. "You know that." Another dart whizzed by and Carl went to go get the pieces so he could start throwing them again.

Shaking his head, and without even looking at his father, he stated, "See you in a few days." Michonne glanced at Carl and then her eyes traveled to Rick. She watched as he momentarily glared at Carl, and then turned to Aaron, the only other person in the room.

"We should get goin'," said Rick to Aaron, and Michonne could hear the slight edge in his voice.

"He'll come around," Aaron told Rick softly as Rick passed him by and exited the bedroom. Michonne waited a few seconds and then followed behind the two men, leaving Carl alone. Rick stopped at the stairs and Aaron followed suit. "I'll uh, meet you downstairs," he said, glancing at Michonne. Rick nodded, looking at the walkie-talkies in his hand.

Turning to face Michonne his breath caught in his throat a little. It wasn't easy opening up to people, especially women he loved, but a few days ago they had reached somewhat of an understanding. He had opened up to her about Judith, and it had been enough to get her to _try_.

It wasn't enough to get her to come on the road with him, though.

He didn't think he could tell her he didn't want her out of his sight. Bad shit tended to happen when they weren't around each other. On the other hand, having her near Carl and Judith was a plus. She would protect them with her life.

It didn't stop him from _wanting_ her to come with _him_.

"If you change your mind," he said, glancing up at her and handing her the walkie-talkie, "we're headed north."

He saw the reluctance, the hesitation, as she took the walkie-talkie, but she grabbed it, nodding. For a brief second their eyes locked.

"Good luck," said Michonne softly, and he felt his stomach drop.

"Yah." His head dropped against his will, and he forced it back up. "I'll see you soon," he told her, grabbing her waist to bring her to him so that he could kiss her cheek.

When her hand cupped his cheek he froze.

They hadn't touched in what felt like forever. He wasn't sure the kiss would be welcomed but he had no plans on going on the road without giving her a kiss goodbye. The thought, the _fear_ that she didn't want him to was paralyzing.

And then she was bringing his face near hers, her own face inching closer. He momentarily paused, staring at her, and she stared back, her eyes dark. His eyes lowered to her lips – did she know how much he missed them? Even in a time like this, when he should never feel happiness again, he _missed_ them – and he was wondering if he should go for it, just kiss her, when she closed the gap between them, her other hand cupping the other side of his face.

She knew.

Of _course_ she knew how badly he needed this.

He let her deepen the kiss, trying not to lose control, and at the same time, attempting to forget everything that had happened in the past week. He felt some of the tension melt away as her lips covered his, and he wrapped his arms even tighter around her, bringing her closer, his other arm sliding around her waist. He cupped her as he pulled her closer, attempting to deepen the kiss even more.

Her kisses had a tendency to set his soul ablaze, and this kiss was no different. He could feel his face warming. Her fingers brushed his lower ear, tangling in his curls, as her thumb brushed the side of his mouth, sending all sort of sensations up and down his spine – and in other places as well.

She gave him several smaller pecks as the kiss ended, one kiss on his top lip, another on his bottom lip, her hands finally sliding off of his face. He stared at her, his body on fire, and her eyes lingered on his lips.

He rested his forehead against hers, trying to get his emotions under control. For a few seconds they allowed themselves to breathe, just breathe and forget, and be a little selfish.

They both exhaled, and Rick knew he had to leave. He had to leave _now_ or he never would, and if he didn't leave then they wouldn't find anything interesting for Negan, and then someone else could lose their life.

So he pulled away with a soft and somewhat breathless, "Thank you," and hoped that she understood it wasn't just in response to her telling him good luck.

He had needed that. More than he had needed air he had needed that from her. He had needed the reassurance, because he was too damn used to rejection. Carl currently hated him. The people of Alexandria were confused. Spencer was questioning his leadership. Michonne was _trying_ but she didn't know what the hell that meant, let alone Rick. And above and beyond that, Glenn and Abraham were _dead_.

If there was _anything_ he had needed it, was that kiss, and the knowledge that for once, _for once_ he wasn't leaving on a run only to come back home and be at odds with the woman he loved.

It's why he worked so damn hard to make this new life work. It's why he was trying so hard to get Carl to understand. Because even though things were tense right now, damn it he was coming back home to a woman who _loved_ him.

A woman who knew him well enough to understand that he wouldn't be able to carry the burden – the _question_ – of if he still had her love on a road trip.

So he thanked her, thanked her for knowing him enough to give him what he needed, and for proving she still needed him, and that he was still wanted. That he was still loved, despite his mistakes, despite the fact that they weren't exactly on the same page. Reassuring him that she was still with him.

It wouldn't be the first time he thanked her, and it damn sure wouldn't be the last.

* * *

A/N: Hey, just checking in on yall! It's officially been two weeks since that man was elected in office. The hate crimes are out of control right now smh. How are yall holding up?

Also, while giving Thanks, please remember the Native Americans in South Dakota right now. #IStandWithStandingRock. Also, the people in Flint are STILL without clean water. I just don't understand this country. Come to think of it, I never have.

Hang in there guys! I'm praying for us.


	94. Out of the Woods

A/N: Posting to let you all know this story isn't done. I was taking finals, and the world had ended, so I couldn't post/write. I'm back, but I probably won't be posting consistently again until next week. Leave me some prompts in the meantime!

Also, just checking in. All yall still good? We LITERALLY have an effing IDIOT for president. Kanye West met with Trump today. He's been dead to me. Now he's buried smh.

Did yall see that MSF? FINALLY we had a good episode of TWD. 7a has SUCKED to say the least haha. Anyway, miss you all, and talk to you soon!

* * *

 _Rick and Michonne go on a run._

 **OUT OF THE WOODS**

 **Rated M for smut**

The night was darker than usual, the ominous fog thick. It was cold, too, and even colder than normal figuring they were in the middle of the forest. The trees were so thick here that no Virginia snow blanketed the ground. The moon was hidden behind a blanket of trees, making it difficult for them to see the ground below them.

"Stay close," Rick whispered softly, glancing behind him.

"Always," said Michonne, her hand gripping her sword. She could barely see Rick in front of her, but she could sense his presence. She kept her eyes alert, her fingers twitching against her sword handle as they made their way farther into the woods.

A sharp gust of wind blew and Michonne inhaled sharply. It was cold, and even the amount of trees couldn't protect her from that.

"The shopping center should be up ahead," Rick told her, and she nodded, remembering the map Eugene had drawn for them. "We shouldn't be too far off course."

"Let's just hope there are cars in the parking lot," whispered Michonne, looking left and right. "Otherwise this run will have gone from bad to worse."

"Yah, and you can drive this time. I'm not took keen on nearly killin' us again." His voice held a hint of bitterness that had Michonne frowning.

"It was an accident," Michonne reminded him.

"Yah, an accident that coulda got you killed."

He wasn't wrong. He wasn't used to driving in the snow, but they had been so desperate for food – times were really getting rough with Negan taking half of their things – that they decided to go on an emergency run. They'd been doing okay until Rick had lost control of the car, spinning out of control.

They'd escaped with a few scratches and bruises but the car was a lost cause. The commotion had gotten the attention of a small herd of walkers that they could have taken out, but they thought it'd be best to just get the hell out of dodge. They'd made their way into the forest, agreeing to still head towards the shopping center.

It was twenty miles away, and the farthest any of them had ever ventured out. Without a car to get them back home… well, it was something Rick nor Michonne really wanted to think about.

"We've dodged death more times than we can count," Michonne finally said. "It's gonna take a lot more than a car accident to kill us."

Rick remained silent, the quiet of the night deafening. The only sound that could be heard was that of the leaves crunching underneath their boots. A twig snapped and Michonne cringed.

Both Michonne and Rick stilled, their ears on alert, as they looked around warily.

They could hear it: the soft growling of walkers nearby. The last thing they wanted to do was get into a blood bath with all this darkness. They could barely see in front of their own faces.

"We gotta get the hell outta here," stated Rick unnecessarily.

Michonne nodded until she remembered he couldn't see her. "Yah."

He grasped around for her hand and when he found it he tugged her forward. Together they made their way through the woods. Michonne kept her eyes and ears alert, her body tense, her other hand glued to her sword.

A gust of wind hitting them full in the face let them know they would be reaching a clearing soon. Sure enough, as they kept straight, Rick and Michonne could make out a little bit of light up ahead.

Finally they were out of the woods.

It was still pitch black out, but at least now they could see the road. Now they just had to worry about their feet crunching the snow too loudly. The wind was bitter against their faces, and they hunched over trying to block it.

" _Fuck_ it's cold," spat Rick. "Why the hell did we decide to do this _now_?"

"Because it was supposed to be a quick, turnaround trip and we were supposed to make it back before the storm hit." Not to mention they didn't want to risk being snowed in with no extra food or water. They were barely making it as it was.

She was going to _kill_ Negan. If not for the men they lost… then for sure for this moment, right now: forcing her and Rick to be out in this freezing cold, one breeze away from catching pneumonia.

They walked for what felt like hours, slaying a few zombies on the way just to make sure their limbs worked. Every part of her body was numb and she was worried that she'd freeze to death before they go to their destination.

Finally, _finally_ they saw the shopping center they were looking for. Michonne let out a harsh breath, smoke ringlets exiting out of her mouth. With suddenly more energy than they'd had since the car broke down, they made their way.

"Before we get too excited," said Rick, "let's see if any of the cars work."

Michonne nodded in agreement. They both made their way to a truck. Michonne opened the door and a walker reached for her.

Rick stabbed it before Michonne was in any real danger, but it had startled her nonetheless. Michonne moved aside, stepping over the walker and looking around. The car looked to be in good condition, and the keys were still in the ignition.

Michonne started the engine.

" _Please_ tell me there's enough gas to get us home," Rick said. "There has to be. The law of averages owes me _big_ time."

Michonne snorted. "Yah, there's enough."

"Enough for us to get home blastin' the heater?"

"Yah."

Rick breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay." He looked around. The shopping center looked deserted. A few of the windows were broken in a few shops, and some of the windows were taped. "We go in, clear it out, and get the hell outta here." Michonne nodded. "Grab the keys."

…

Rick banged on the front doors and he could hear the walkers within a few seconds. It sounded like quite a few. They looked at each other, already knowing what to do.

They'd cleared plenty of buildings in the past.

Michonne opened the door wide enough for a walker to slip through, and Rick immediately stabbed it in the brain. He pushed it aside, ready for the next one, Michonne's sword pointed up in case she needed to intervene if things went bad.

There were at least two dozen walkers in there and Rick killed them all, no doubt taking out his frustrations on the situation at hand. Michonne watched, him, transfixed, as his face contorted with rage and he took out each walker.

The last one he stabbed at least ten times.

His breathing was hard, his face flushed, and despite the cold weather beads of sweat had gathered on his forehead.

Michonne laid a gentle hand on his arm, and he looked up at her, his blue eyes dark with turmoil.

They were all over each other in seconds, his lips violent against hers, his tongue demanding entry into her mouth. She obliged, moaning into his mouth, and he slammed her against the wall, his hands assaulting her, roaming all over her. She gasped when he shoved his knee in between her legs, and cried out, throwing her head back, when his calloused hands slipped underneath her layers and gripped her breasts. They both fumbled with their pants, nearly tripping in their haste to get at least one shoe off so they could lower their pants.

When he entered her he had to cover her mouth with his to stop them both from screaming. Their hips joined together in an urgency neither of them had felt before, and both of them were cumming before either of them knew it.

The two of them stayed still for several seconds, both of them catching their breath. After a while Michonne slowly unwrapped herself from around Rick, the cool air shocking some sense back into her.

Rick stepped back, clearing his throat.

"That… I… sorry." Rick was rarely flustered, but his hands were shaking as he buckled his pants back up.

"Don't be," said Michonne, pulling her own pants back on.

"We… we should get all that we can, and then get the hell outta here."

"Yah," agreed Michonne.

They needed to get back home.

* * *

A/N: Don't remember what sparked this, but hey, I liked it LOL. Just a scenario that could have happened during the Negan reign LOL.


	95. Serendipity

Hi! First of all, THE PROMPTS you guys have given! CLEARLY people wanna know what happened after that cell kiss lol. I will DEFINITELY be doing a scene to that, and to some of the guest Reviewers, I like your prompts, too!

Secondly, I'd like to address something very serious for a moment, and I want to be very clear: NO I will not be silent about Trump. I will NOT. STOP asking me to. For every ONE reviewer who has an issue, I get ten PMs saying "thanks for asking" and then an email about how upset they still are, or how worried they are, etc. I am, first an foremost, a human being. A BLACK WOMAN at that. My READERS are humans. I have the RIGHT to check on them. It's the same mentality that celebs should just entertain and not have a brain. Well I'm not Sambo performing on stage for any of you. I have real concerns, and real opinions, and no I will not just shut up and write fanfic. On EVERY platform I use, I'm speaking out AND speaking up. And I have the right to. TRUST ME when I say that I will not be the LEAST bit offended if you decide my Trump talk offends you and you no longer want to read this story. I PROMISE I will not lose ANY sleep. Not a wink. This is art. Writing is art. And it's artists that use their voices. I am no different. It's in my poetry. And yes, it'll be in my stories. So if you really can't handle the Trump talk for whatever reason, it was nice having you around, but feel free to exit stage left. I have been crystal clear on my stance on this, and it's not changing. You're getting Trump talk for the next four years.

LASTLY YALL OMG ALAN THICKE PASSED! How Sway? Why, Black Jesus? I LOVED him on Growing Pains. I just loved him period. I feel so bad for Robin, and Paula (even though they're divorced) and their son (Alan's grandchild) and I'm just sad. 2016 has to be one of the worst years in history. Damn shame.

BUT some good news. I was RELIEVED to find out that the pipeline in Dakotas was DENIED. Thank You Black Jesus and President Obama. I was following that SO closely. I prayed, cried, donated, was angry, etc, but FINALLY some justice in this country. Woohoo. Now on to your story:

* * *

 _Prompt—"_ _AU Request: Michonne works at the police academy by day and attends law school at night. Rick is a police academy trainee and single dad. By chance they cross paths at the library on a lazy Saturday. What happens between those stacks?" –RBGzMom_

 _The only thing I changed was Rick being a trainee, because I made Carl a teenager, which would make them older._

 _Serendipity: (n) accidentally finding something meaningful_

 **SERENDIPITY**

 **Rated K**

Michonne stood up on her tip-toes and tried her hardest to reach the book with no luck. She had never considered herself short – for the most part she could reach the top cupboards in her apartment, or place purses on the top shelf of her closet – but this book was simply out reach. She glanced around for a footstool but found nothing but an empty aisle to her left and right. Determined that this would not outdo her – she had taken tests harder than this problem – Michonne groaned and attempted to reach the book again. She thought back to her days of ballet. If she could stand en pointe she was sure she'd be able to reach it, but she hadn't danced in _years_ , not to mention that would require her to take off her heels –

At that moment someone brushed against her, gently, but still enough to startle her – she was normally pretty good at being well aware of her surroundings, but he completely caught her off guard.

She blinked rapidly as the man reached up and grabbed the very book she'd been reaching for. "Here ya go," the mystery man said, handing her the book. She had had her retort ready, on the tip of her tongue: "I don't need your help," but one look into his shockingly blue eyes had Michonne momentarily stunned. She blinked at him until he flashed her a quick smile, and then he turned around and disappeared.

…

She tried not to think about the mysterious stranger, and as the days passed into weeks, she forgot all about the quick encounter. She went back to her weekly Saturday routine of being in the library to study to take her bar exam. Life was currently extremely hectic while working full time at the police academy and going to school three days out of the week, plus finding the time to be a mother to her toddler.

She had already lost the girlfriend title. Her boyfriend Mike had broken up with her three weeks ago, claiming she was too busy for him. The truth was he wasn't as ambitious as she was, and he didn't know how to support her hustle. So she didn't stop him from moving out, and if she had any regrets, she was too busy studying to try and face them.

Besides, she had Andre, and that's really all she needed.

On her last Saturday studying for the bar, Michonne headed towards the back of the library to search for a book that a friend of hers had recommended. Andrea had gone through law school a few years ago and this book came highly recommended.

It was in the second to last row, and it was well worn. Michonne could tell a lot of people had read it and checked it out. She gripped the binder and pulled the book down.

And then she found herself staring into a familiar pair of bright blue eyes.

Michonne felt something drop in her stomach as the man with the blue eyes stared back at her. He seemed just as surprised to see her; his hand was still suspended in midair, the book he'd gotten off of the shelf at the same time she had grabbed her own book clutched tightly in his hand.

She wasn't sure how long the two of them stood there, staring at each other. The silence was deafening, save for the pounding of her heart. She felt her mouth go dry as the time stretched on and she started to take in his features: in addition to the scintillating sky blue eyes he had a head full of dark curls that Michonne immediately wondered what it'd be like to run her fingers through. He had a beard, grey flecked throughout, which made him look distinguished and handsome.

Michonne's breath caught in her throat as Rick tilted his head to the side. She should speak. Should she speak? Of course she should speak, she was literally just standing here staring at the man. What should she say? Hello? Hi? Give him her name? What _was_ her name? What was _his_?

She could find out if she ever opened her mouth and spoke.

"Dad. _Dad_!" The sound of the voice seemed to snap both Michonne and the quiet stranger out of their daze. The man jumped, clearly startled, and turned towards the voice. "I've been calling you for ages."

"What is it, Carl?" the man asked.

"It's boring here. Can we go now?"

"Well, son, you could be out with your friends if you hadn't gotten in trouble, and you wouldn't be bored. So, no, son we cannot go now, because you're on _my_ time, and I have stuff and thangs to do."

Michonne heard the boy sigh loudly and stomp away, and after a few seconds those blue eyes flickered back to her. He sent her a smile that had her weak in the knees – actually weak in the knees – and she found herself smiling back.

"Hi," he finally said.

Michonne gave him a soft, shy smile back. "Hi yourself."

"Teenagers, eh?"

Michonne shrugged casually. "I wouldn't know. I only have a toddler."

The man nodded. "Well, uh, I'll let you get back to your studies. Wouldn't want to take up too much of your time, especially if you got a husband and toddler to get home to."

Michonne's smile widened. "Your assumption that because I have a toddler I must be married shows me that you're old fashioned, and probably married yourself."

The man glanced at her. "I am old fashioned, but you're wrong. I _was_ married, but now I'm divorced."

"And I was taken, but now I'm not." She didn't know why she felt the need to tell him that, but it slipped out.

He shifted, sending her another charming grin. "I'm Rick. Rick Grimes."

"Michonne Rogers." She laughed as Rick attempted to thrust his arm through the shelf to shake her hand. He stared at her for a moment, as if transfixed. "Perhaps you should come around."

"I think that's a good idea." He stared at her for a few more seconds. "Meet me half way?"

Michonne stared back at him. "Yah. I think I can do that."

"Well alright, then."

Rick nodded and headed towards the end of the aisle, where Michonne planned to meet him head-on.


	96. Denim Shirts, White Tees, & Murder Coats

A/N: Guys I'm in Cali, celebrating my mother's bday (she wanted to go to Disneyland woohoo) so I'm on "vacation" for the weekend. Wanted to leave you all with a little something, something.

I've got a few CHRISTmas stories I'll be posting soon. It's my FAVORITE holiday, and who better to celebrate it with than Richonne? So hopefully it'll help get some of us in the holiday mood with everything that is currently going on. I'll be posting again soon, scouts honor!

And I still haven't given up on my Richonne prison A/U multi-fic. Be patient, things are CRAZY. I think with TWD hiatus I can concentrate. Got a few prompts I want to finish up before diving into a new project, but hopefully I'll start on that soon.

* * *

 _So on TiTTD we oftentimes talk about Michonne wearing Rick's clothing. That inspired this fic._

 **OF DENIM SHIRTS, WHITE TEES, AND MURDER COATS**

 **Rated M**

Michonne had a tendency to wear his things.

Rick wasn't sure when it had started. Perhaps it was their first winter together. Normally the two of them remained naked after making love, but as the months grew colder, oftentimes Rick would wake up to Michonne covered in his brown shirt.

It looked way better on her than it ever had on him, that was for sure.

But lately she started to wear his things even when they were awake. In fact, she tended to take his shirts and make her own outfit.

Take today for instance. She was currently dressed in his denim button-up, a pair of her leggings, and her boots.

The denim shirt fit her so perfectly it was doing things to him.

They were currently expanding the walls to Alexandria. Deanna's thoughts and plans, though later than ever, still came in handy. She had been right, and Rick knew that had she made it, had she still been alive, she'd be proud of their progress.

She'd also be proud of Michonne's progress.

She was a great leader, but it wasn't her leadership qualities that had Rick currently hard as a rock.

It was that damn denim shirt.

It was something about seeing her in something that was so obviously his…. Like if there had ever been any doubt about their relationship, it was more than obvious now.

Rick glanced at Michonne out of the corner of his eye and grimaced as he noticed her fan herself. It _was_ warm out (so no, it wasn't just her making him hot). Springtime was quickly turning into summer, and he found himself wiping his own brow on more than one occasion.

And then Michonne unbuttoned his denim shirt, slipped it off, and tied it around her waist, a white camisole leaving next to nothing to the imagination. He licked his lips and finally caving, walked over to her.

"Why don't you head inside and get a glass of water?" he asked her, and he knew his voice was huskier than usual. She turned to face him, well aware of the tone of voice he was using, and arched an amused eyebrow.

"Will you be joining me for said glass of water?" asked Michonne.

"Absolutely. Soon as I can walk."

Michonne laughed. "Well then feel free to meet me upstairs."

She turned and walked away and Rick watched her go.

 _Shit_ that woman could wear any of his clothes anytime she wanted.

…

Rick came downstairs, buckling his pants.

"Michonne, have you seen my white shirt?" called Rick, entering the kitchen. He found Michonne at the sink, who turned around once he entered, a guilty expression on her face. He looked her over. "Is that my shirt?"

Michonne bit her lip in guilt. "In my defense, you didn't say you were going to wear it."

"I didn't tell you when I was gonna wear my own white tee?"

"You have _got_ to get better at communicating," joked Michonne.

Rick shot her a grin. "Give me my shirt… now."

Michonne arched an eyebrow and shrugged. "Okay." And then she lifted the shirt over her head, her breasts nearly on full display, save for the thin piece of material masquerading as a bra.

"Michonne," warned Rick, shifting on his feet.

"Go lock the door," she whispered, and Rick nearly tripped over his own feet trying to get to the front door. The second the door was locked he started fumbling with his pants.

They rarely had sex anywhere other than their bedroom and bathroom. People were always running in and out of their house, and Carl never stayed still for long. But with Carl at school and Judith on her daily stroll with Daryl, the two of them had just enough time to please each other with a quickie before their daily rendezvous at lunch.

He entered her quickly, having only placed her on top of the counter a couple of seconds ago. She threw her head back, her back arching, and Rick buried his face into her breasts, licking and sucking.

Michonne cried out, digging her nails into his hips, and eagerly met Rick's thrusts. They never seemed to tire from each other. No matter how often they did this – and boy, did they do it often – it was always like the first time.

She came, violently, startled that he could still take her there, that he _always_ took her there, no matter what. Choking out a sob she moaned his name, determined to enjoy every moment of this.

Lunch was a long way away.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," she pleaded, and whimpering she buried her face in his neck, her fingers pulling his hair as an another orgasm started to build.

Before she could release Rick pulled out and spun Michonne around, bending her over the island and entering her from behind. He took her arms and held them above her head and buried his face in her back.

She came and he followed.

Gasping for breath he pulled out. She turned and faced him.

"I think your white tee looks better on me," she told him.

He nodded. "Keep it as long as you want. Long as I get to take it off."

…

Michonne placed her sword down and then sat down next to Rick.

"Okay, you were right," she said softly. He arched an eyebrow. "You don't try to kill people every time we meet someone new. It's definitely the jacket."

"I told you," stated Rick with a smirk. "The jacket houses some sort of magic or somethin'."

Michonne sighed. Before they had left she had told Rick to absolutely, positively, _not_ kill anyone today unless it was absolutely necessary. Rick then claimed that he didn't _want_ to kill anyone, that it must be the jacket. Michonne stared at him, clearly skeptical, but Rick had insisted. She said if she wore the jacket and didn't kill anyone, then it was him.

She hadn't made it ten minutes.

She had no idea what had come over her.

Before she could delve too deep into it, Rick spoke again.

"It looks good on you." Michonne arched an eyebrow. "My jacket. You should wear it more often."

Michonne smiled. "Finally. You fuss at me whenever I wear your denim shirt, or your white tee…. It's nice to know you approve of me wearing your coat."

Rick grinned. "You wear them all better than me, that's for sure."

He didn't mind her wearing his denim shirt, or his white tee, or his jacket. He hoped it was a way to open her mind to wearing his things.

Because next on his list… more than any of those other items, Rick hoped that one day soon she would be wearing his ring.


	97. The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

_Because CHRISTmas is my FAVORITE holiday, and I can write a CHRISTmas one-shot ANY time of year for no other rhyme or reason other than the fact that it's my absolute favorite holiday._

 _Since TWD Universe CLEARLY doesn't celebrate ANY holidays, not even birthdays, this is the same Universe as "The Sherriff and the Counselor" (Chapter 44) and "Another Life" (Chapter 80)._

 **THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR**

 **Rated M for Christmas smut**

Michonne stared out the window, a thick blanket around her shoulders, a mug of hot chocolate in her hand. She felt him before she saw him or heard him, and therefore did not jump when he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned back into him, sighing softly.

"You're up early," Rick commented, his lips on her neck. She could smell the spearmint toothpaste on his breath.

"I know. I wanted to get started on the cooking. Sasha, Abe, and Daryl come into town today and it'll be the first time they see the new house…. I just want everything to be perfect."

"We're gonna have a full house soon," said Rick, his lips traveling down to the crook of her shoulder. "There won't be any time to… give each other Christmas gifts."

Michonne grinned and turned to Rick. "Really?" Rick slid his hands under Michonne's shirt, gripping her breasts, and her breath hitched. "Rick, no. You know Carl's an early riser, and—" Rick wrapped his lips around Michonne's earlobe. "That's not fair."

"How badly I always want you ain't fair," said Rick, his voice husky. Michonne turned around and Rick grabbed her mug, placing it on the coffee table. Then he pulled her to him, his lips seeking hers.

It was strange how quickly he could make her undress.

In his defense, they hadn't tried out the sofa yet. Their house in Alexandria was large and they'd only been there a few weeks. They hadn't had time to enjoy every room in the house yet.

Michonne supposed that would be changing this morning.

She slipped out of her jeans and laid back on the couch, Rick covering his body with hers. She took a deep breath as he slid into her, and then relaxed once she adjusted to him. He stared moving, his face buried in her neck, inhaling sharply as the pleasure started taking over.

She tried to keep quiet, but sometimes it was hard to remember to do so. If she had trouble in their old quaint house back in Atlanta, it was definitely harder in their home now.

Michonne gripped Rick's back, her nails digging into his skin, her teeth sinking into his shoulder as the first orgasm hit her. Rick gripped the arm of the couch for leverage, deepening his thrusts, and Michonne moaned out, arching her back. With restraint she didn't know she had Michonne gasped out Rick's name as quietly as she could, and came again.

They head a door squeak open, and then footsteps, and then another door close shut. Rick looked at her, a smirk on his face.

"Rick," she whispered as he slowed down, so that he wouldn't finish. Michonne's biggest fear was to be caught by the kids.

Before Rick could respond they heard the shower running. "See? We got time." He kissed her to keep her from saying anything else, his pace still slow, almost lazy. She wrapped her legs tighter around him, sighing all the while.

With a gentle exhale she came again, and this time he followed behind her, speeding up just enough to get her to moan out his name one last time.

They finished just as the shower shut off.

Michonne pushed Rick off of her and grabbed her pants, frowning.

"Don't act like you didn't like it," Rick said smugly.

"Don't you ever touch me again," threatened Michonne, and Rick laughed, pulling her to him. "You couldn't deny me if you tried." Michonne sagged against him as she realized he was right. Rick kissed her again and allowed her to get up. He did the same, pulling his sweats back on.

They looked relatively normal by the time Carl came downstairs.

Still, he couldn't help but send Michonne a smirk as he walked passed her.

"What time does everyone get in?" asked Carl, grabbing an apple from the island and hopping on top of it.

"Boy if you don't get your butt off my island," Michonne stated. Carl sighed dramatically but got down. "And everyone's due here around noon, and nothing's done." She turned to Rick. "You two need to go get the last tree. I'll go through the decorations. I thought we'd have steak and I need to marinate the meat—"

"You need to relax, Mom," said Carl. "It's family that's coming in. They're the same people they were before we moved to Alexandria. They'd be fine with burgers. Christmas is in a few days; they can have their feast then. Relax."

Rick chuckled. "He's got a point," Rick commented. Michonne stayed silent and Rick caressed her arm. "We'll go and get the tree, but don't worry about Daryl, Sasha, and Abe. They're family, so they'll be home the minute they step foot inside."

Sure enough, when everybody walked through the door, it was just like old times.

"The house is beautiful," Sasha said. "And _warm_. It is _cold_ in Alexandria."

"It's only gonna get colder," said Rick.

"Yah, I'm hoping we'll get a white Christmas," Michonne told them.

Sasha sighed. "Sounds beautiful, but I'm not going outside for anything that day, and I might not leave back to Atlanta until spring. There's plenty of room here."

"That there is," smiled Rick.

"Is Jesus coming?" Abe asked.

"Nah, he probably caught a case," said Daryl, and Rick nodded.

"Good," claimed Carl. "That's more food for us."

…

Michonne gripped the bathroom sink, the sound of her moans muffled by Rick's hand. Michonne palmed the mirror, her hips thrusting backwards to meet Rick's fierce thrusts. Her body buckled as Rick's fingers worked wonders on her center, and when he hit that nerve she cried out, arching her back. The orgasm had her seeing double – or maybe it was because of the fact she hadn't had her husband in three _long_ days, and both of them were stressed out about it.

Until she ran the shower this morning, was about to step inside, and he grabbed her from behind, already naked, and neither of them could even make it inside the shower. He took her against the glass door, raw, rough, _hard_ , and they were done with being courteous to their houseguests.

She tried not to scream as he slammed into her.

Hopefully the running water would drown out the noise, because Rick was _not_ making it easy.

Her hands slipped on the glass and she gripped the sink again.

"Right there," Rick told her huskily. "Stay just like that."

He slid his hand up from her center and traced her stomach until he could grip her breasts. His lips found her shoulder and he sunk his teeth into her, and Michonne jerked.

They came together, exhausted.

"Merry damn Christmas," said Rick, breathing deeply.

Michonne grinned. "God bless us, everyone." She felt _good_. She'd been tense the last few days, unaware at how much she'd missed Rick until he was inside of her. "You gonna join me in the shower that you so readily interrupted?"

Rick nodded. "For a little while. And then I wanna decorate our tree."

The house in Alexandria was huge. Their Master Suite was the size of their Atlanta living room, so they had decided on a new Christmas tradition this year: having their own personal tree that they would decorate together on Christmas Eve.

They put up the decorations, laughing and giggling as Michonne sipped on wine. It took a while for the decorations to get done figuring Michonne was decorating in hot red lingerie that made Rick keep reaching out and touch her and kiss her.

They finally finished and stared back, looking at their work. The lights were off so the room had a soft yellow glow from the white lights, with orange undertones from the fireplace.

"It's beautiful," Michonne said softly.

Rick wrapped his arms around her, his lips on her shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Rick paused for several moments. "Guess what?"

"What?" sighed Michonne, leaning into him.

He smiled. "Looks like you'll get your white Christmas wish. It's snowing."

…

The crew sat scattered in the living room, Daryl holding Judith, Andre sitting next to Sasha, Carl next to the tree, ready to open up presents.

"Open our gift first," Carl exclaimed to Michonne.

"Okay," smiled Michonne, and Rick bent down and handed Michonne a large box. She grabbed the box and sat it down on the ground, Rick and Carl next to her. Michonne was never one to save the wrapping, so she torn into the gift and opened the lid. She gasped in surprise. "Oh my God!"

"Do you like it?" Carl asked anxiously.

" _Do_ I? I'm sleeping with it. It's just too damn gorgeous." Michonne held up the rainbow cat statue, staring at it fondly. "Thank you, I love it." She reached out for Carl and gave him a hug, and then kissed Rick. "Where did you find it?"

"Back in Atlanta. Carl saw it first, and then I did. He said you'd love it and I agreed with him."

"How the hell did you hide it from me? I should have seen this while we were packing."

Rick glanced at Sasha. "He dropped it off at my place the same day," Sasha admitted.

Michonne sent her a smile. "Your turn, Carl." Michonne grabbed a thin box. "Someone hit the jackpot."

"No way," grinned Carl, and opened up his gifts of Comics. "Awesome."

"Okay, what'd you get Rick?" Abraham asked.

"I got my gift this morning. Twice."

" _Dad_ ," whined Carl.

"That was not your only gift," Michonne said smoothly. "You have something else as well." Michonne motioned to Carl and he grabbed the small box. "This is from us. Judith and Andre picked it out."

Rick opened up the box and found a new silver watch, almost identical to the one his father had given him many years ago. It had gotten damaged in the move.

"We couldn't fix your old watch, so we got one as close to it as we could. We were able to salvage the links, though, so those are from your father's watch. So basically it's custom," Michonne told him softly.

Rick fingered the watch for several moments. "Thank you," he said softly, and at that moment Andre walked up to him and hugged him. Rick kissed the top of his head, smiling.

"Okay let's eat," Sasha said, sniffing. "Guests go first, because with the way Michonne's been eating, there might not be any food left."

"Funny, Sasha," said Michonne sarcastically.

"What? You have been eating your family outta a house an' home," Daryl said. "Little Ass-Kicker even said so."

"Oh, whatever."

Later on that night, Michonne walked up to Rick, who was still staring at his new watch. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, resting her face on his back.

"Today was special," Rick said, turning around to face her.

"And it's about to even more special," she told him softly. He looked at her and she reached behind her back and pulled out an object. He stepped back, blinking.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Michonne nodded, gaging his reaction. He seemed stunned for a moment.

"Are we… is that… does this mean we're pregnant?"

Michonne laughed. "This means _I'm_ pregnant. As far as I know your hips won't spread and your appetite won't increase."

He was on her before she could say anything else, and then he was kissing her. "Is this okay? We weren't even tryin'. I mean I wanted to ask, but everything happened so quickly between my promotion and then us movin', I thought you'd want more time to settle down, but—"

"I'm okay with this if you are," Michonne said softly.

Rick cupped her cheeks. "I'm more than okay with this."

Rick kissed her gently, and Michonne kissed him back.

It really was the most wonderful time of the year.

* * *

A/N: So this will probably be the last story in the Sherriff/Counselor Universe, only because I can't see myself having two different A/Us where they have children. It'd get kind of confusing. Unless, of course, I gave one child one name in one Universe, and the other child in the other Universe a different name, but seriously, lowkey it seems like team too much LOL.


	98. Making A Home for the Holidays

This prompt got moved up because... CHRISTmas lol. I'm going to try and write one more CHRISTmas fic for tomorrow, but just in case I don't/can't, Merry, MERRY CHRISTmas to all of you. Also, I could use some more prompts for the new year :)

I'm so thankful for all of your love and support for this story. It means the world to me. =]

* * *

 _Prompt—"_ _Can you do a part II to this? A next Christmas kind of deal where they tell the family they are pregnant. They could be married or not at this time. If they are not married, then maybe he could propose as well. This was so cute. I just hate for their story to end. :)_ _" mtownrichonner._

 _Continuation to Chapter 78 'Home for the Holidays.'_

 **MAKING A HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS**

 **Rated K**

"Move it a little to the left," instructed Michonne. "No, that's too much."

Rick and Carl both sighed. Putting the tree down Rick stared at Michonne. "We've been inchin' this tree back and forth for the past ten minutes. It's centered, alright?"

"No it's _not_ alright," Michonne hissed. "Our parents are coming to our brand-new house for the first the time, it's the first time our families will be together all at once, and I need to make sure everything is perfect, because this home is a reflection of _me_ , not _us_ , and my entire reputation will not be destroyed because you two can't align a tree in the center of the window."

Rick stared at Michonne for a brief moment before turning to Carl. "Can you excuse us for a moment? In fact, why don't you go and check on Judith and Andre? They're much too quiet upstairs."

Carl nodded, giving Michonne one final glance, clearly grateful to be making his escape. Rick waited until he was sure Carl was upstairs before walking up to Michonne. She braced herself for his piercing gaze. He had the ability to see right through her. She prepared for the question he'd been asking on and off for the past few weeks: _"What's wrong_?"

She even had the signature, " _Nothing_ ," on the tip of her tongue.

Only he didn't ask her. Instead he just wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his square chest. She momentarily froze, holding her breath, as his face rested in her neck. He pulled her until she relaxed in his arms.

"Whatever it is," he whispered, "we'll get through it. Whatever happens… I'm with you." He looked at her, softly brushing his thumb against her lips. "Christmas will be fine. My family loves you, your family loves me. I'm sure they'll love each other. They'll love the new house. You don't have to try so hard."

Michonne felt the tears well but didn't let them fall. He frowned, his eyes searching hers for a few moments. She could see it, the question on his lips, but she had brushed it aside so many times that he decided not to ask it again. Instead he just placed a gentle kiss on her temple.

"I'll go grab the decorations," said Rick.

Michonne took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll go pop the popcorn." He nodded and the two of them went their separate ways – Rick upstairs to get the decorations and Michonne to the kitchen to get to the edible decorations – pears, popcorn, and apples. A few seconds later Carl came back downstairs with Andre in his arms and Judith holding his hand.

When everyone had started decorating the tree, Michonne felt herself start to relax. She wasn't used to being nervous. She was used to being in control and the events that were taking place took her out of her comfort zone.

For the first time since she and Rick had been dating, everybody would be all under one roof. Sure she had gone to dinner with Rick and his parents before; sure Rick had attended her father's birthday party; sure Mrs. Grimes had joined Michonne and her mother for Christmas shopping, and okay, yes, Michonne's dad had played a round of golf with Rick and Mr. Grimes.

But this was _different_. Rick and Michonne had decided to buy a house together, which was a huge step in their relationship, and this would be the first time that everyone would see the house. Not to mention it was _Christmas_ , so Michonne's need for everything to be perfect was overwhelming. It wasn't just the parents that would be here – Grandma and Grandpa Grimes would be coming, they would be meeting Andre for the first time, Michonne's grandparents would be here too, and they'd be meeting Carl and Judith for the first time, and if Michonne knew _anything_ is that for the first time _she wasn't in control_.

But decorating the tree… that was something that always calmed her. The holidays could be hectic, and none more so than this one, with trying to buy furniture and making decorating decisions, and trying to blend their two styles together. Still, they had had it easier than some couples they knew, so for that Michonne was grateful.

And when Rick picked up Andre so that he could put the angel on top of the tree, and then Carl had plugged in the lights, Michonne had never thought a moment had ever been more perfect.

She wasn't sure what Christmas would bring, but if it was half the moment this was, with Rick's arm wrapped around her, Andre in his other arm, Carl next to him, and Judith next to Carl, then Christmas would be okay.

…

The morning of Christmas Michonne was a nervous wreck. Her parents had arrived earlier than planned in order to help her prepare – thank God for the little things. But when Rick walked into the kitchen stating that his parents were officially on their way, her nerves were shot. When the doorbell rang Michonne actually squealed, and was entirely too relieved to see that it was only her grandparents, who made her feel at ease by complimenting all the decorations she had done.

Rick gave her an 'I told you so look' that had her rolling her eyes, but smiling nonetheless.

She was upstairs in the bedroom when Mr. and Mrs. Grimes arrived, along with their parents. Rick went upstairs to get her, and taking a deep breath, Michonne made her way downstairs.

It was hugs and kisses all around, along with smiles and genuine compliments about the house. By this time it was difficult to show them the house figuring it was so full. Not to mention the cuisine was nearly done so she had to keep a close eye on the food. The women migrated to the kitchen while the men gathered around in the living room.

"You have made a beautiful home," Sophia stated, sipping a glass of wine.

Michonne smiled as everyone else chimed in. "Thank you. Rick and I were extremely blessed to find it. We hadn't been looking that long, and most of the community was already built. We bought one of the last houses in the neighborhood."

"I say we have the annual New Year's Eve party here," suggested Sophia. "King County's so far away."

"It would be nice to host it somewhere else," Mrs. Grimes agreed. "Maybe it's time we pass the torch. Leave it to the young folks."

"We accept," Rick's grandmother volunteered. Michonne threw her head back and laughed as the older woman winked at her.

"As lovely as Savannah is, I think Atlanta is a lot closer for everyone," laughed Sophia. "That's if you're up to it."

"I'll have to discuss it with Rick, but I would love it if we hosted the New Year's Eve party. It'd be an honor."

"I'll bring the drinks," Mrs. Grimes said.

"And we can bring the food," chimed in Michonne's mother. And just like that, the group of women were chatting and making plans. They all seemed to get along, and Michonne found herself wondering why she had ever been nervous.

It wasn't until it was time to open gifts that she remembered.

Rick had asked her to save his gift for last, and she had asked him to do the same, so everyone opened their gifts while Michonne waited nervously to give Rick hers. When it was time for them to exchange gifts everyone looked at them expectantly. They sat on the floor, near the tree.

"You go first," Michonne told Rick.

"Nah, you should," said Rick, his eyes twinkling.

Michonne hesitated. "I'm pretty sure my gift will trump whatever you got me, you should open mine last."

Rick shook his head. "No, I insist. You should open mine last."

" _Someone_ open _something_ ," Carl said.

" _Please_ ," chimed in Judith.

Michonne slouched down. "Okay. You can open yours first."

Rick looked at her and shook his head. Reaching behind his back he pulled out a small, turquoise bag. "Merry Christmas," he stated, and for the first time, he looked nervous. Michonne started at him, reaching for the turquoise bag.

She reached inside of it, her heart hammering when she felt the small box. She pulled it out and saw a rectangular Tiffany's box. She opened it and gasped when she saw the silver charm bracelet. She noticed a gun that she knew represented Rick, a hat that she knew represented Carl, a ballet slipper that she knew represented Judith, a soccer ball that she knew represented Andre, and a house that she knew represented the house they had just gotten.

She was about to comment on how lovely it was – it was _gorgeous_ , and had everyone gasping – when something else caught her eye. She picked it up, dropping both her box and her jaw, as she inspected the ring charm.

When she looked up Rick had a small, velvet box in his hand, a diamond ring glistening. She dropped the bracelet. "Will you?" The question was spoken gently, his blue eyes guarded. He was nervous, she could tell, and she felt herself melt.

Michonne felt the tears before she saw them, but blinked them away. She wasn't a crier. She wouldn't be like those girls in the movies who were overly emotional. She took a deep breath, reaching out for him.

"Of course I will," she whispered, and this arms were around her. She could barely make out the cheers as her eyes sought out Carl and Judith. Their smiles were blinding. After several moments, she pushed him away and he placed the ring on her finger. "Now it's time for my gift."

She reached behind her back and pulled out an envelope. He stared at it quizzically, glancing at her as he grabbed it, trying to read her. She gave him a sheepish smile and he noted she was holding her breath.

He opened the envelope and pulled out the card, blinking at it for several moments.

"It's a Father's Day card…."

Michonne smiled and relaxed at the confusion in his voice. "Open it, Rick," she stated softly.

Clearly confused, he opened it.

And didn't say a word for several moments. The questions of what it was went unanswered. Michonne stared at Rick and Rick stared at his gift, obviously too stunned to say anything.

"Rick, _what is it_?" Mrs. Grimes asked.

Her question was ignored.

It wasn't until Michonne said, "Rick, _say something,_ " that he finally looked up, his blue eyes brighter than ever.

"It's an ultrasound."

Michonne nodded. There were more gasps, and Carl was suddenly next to his dad within seconds, overlooking his shoulder.

"Does this mean… are you… are we…?" Rick cleared his throat, apparently trying to remember the art of words.

"Yes," whispered Michonne, putting him out of his misery. "Yes, we're having a baby."

Michonne heard her mother choke out a sob, and then Mrs. Grimes started chanting " _OhmyGod, OhmyGod, OhmyGod"_ over and over again. Mr. Grimes yelled out, "Well congrats, Son!" and Michonne's dad said, "I hope it's a girl!"

But they didn't hear any of this. Rick just stared at Michonne, who kept his gaze.

When he reached out for her she embraced him back. He showered her with kisses, his lips everywhere.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?" asked Michonne.

"For expandin' our family." He looked at her. "For makin' our house a home. For carryin' the best gift of all inside of you."

Michonne sent Rick her brightest smile yet. "There's no one I'd rather have this gift with."


	99. The Grand Opening

_Same universe as The Art Gallery and The Coffee Shop._

 **THE GRAND OPENING**

 **Rated K**

Carl watched as his father took off his tie and put his bowtie back on for the hundredth time. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Dad. It's _Michonne_. Would you stop worrying? She won't care how you look."

"It's her grand opening. I don't wanna embarrass her." Rick fastened the bowtie and stared at himself in the mirror.

"You won't embarrass her," sighed Carl. "Trust me, okay? Michonne's crazy about you."

Rick stared at Carl through his mirror. "And are you okay with that?"

Carl stared at his father for a few seconds, and then smiled softly. "I think she might be one of us."

Rick looked at Carl. "What?"

Carl continued to stare at his father. "I think it's okay."

Rick breathed a silent sigh of relief and nodded, turning back to his mirror. He stepped back, admiring himself, and grimaced. He wanted to change, but knew that if he tried to he would be late.

"This'll have to do," he muttered.

"You look good, Dad. Trust me."

And he did. He wore a navy blue tuxedo that fit him perfectly, his curly hair was slicked back and his salt-and-pepper beard was trimmed to perfection.

"I guess I better get goin'." He grabbed his keys and headed out of the bedroom. "The money for dinner is on the counter. Call me if anything happens."

"I will," sighed Carl, rolling his eyes.

Rick made his way to the front door and then turned around. "Look, I'm trustin' you. You're a man, Carl. I expect you to act like one."

"And you make sure you're back at a decent hour, call if you'll be home later than eleven, and just in case you don't come home—"

"Don't even go there, Son," Rick warned, and then he was on his way to the grand opening of the century.

…

Rick took a deep breath and knocked on Michonne's door. The door was nearly opened immediately, and one of Michonne's best friends, Andrea, opened the door.

"Hey, Rick," Andrea said with a smile. Her blonde hair was up, her makeup perfect, and she wore a pretty, low-cut turquoise dress.

"Hey, Andrea." She moved aside so he could walk in. "You look good."

"So do you." Rick looked around, expecting to see Michonne. "Michonne's upstairs with Sasha, who's putting the finishing touches on her hair. I'll just go run and check on them. Make yourself at home."

Rick nodded and made his way to the wall-length windows. Michonne's high-rise condo had a great view of downtown Atlanta, and he found he loved the city lights.

After a few minutes he heard heels clicking. He turned around and saw Andrea and Michonne's other best friend, Sasha, walking down the staircase.

"Hey, Rick," said Sasha with a smile.

"Hey, Sasha. You look great." She wore a short metallic gold sequined dress that hung off her shoulders and her box braids were tied in a high bun. She had a nude clutch and wore nude heels.

"Thank you. I love the navy tux. It's very fashion-forward, and will match Michonne perfectly. She'll be down in a second."

Sure enough a dark blue blur started flying down the stairs.

"I'm here, I'm here, I'm here," she said, clearly breathless, and suddenly he's in front of her. He didn't even remember _moving_.

He stared at her, in awe of her beauty, utterly speechless. She had changed her hair, he noted. Her 'locs were a light brown color, curled, and tied up in a French roll.

The dress was gorgeous: navy blue, tight, hugging all the right curves, with a single slit all the way up her thigh. It was long-sleeved and backless and flawless in every sense of the word. She ended the ensemble with dark pink, pointy-toe stilettos and lipstick to match. Gold accessories polished the look.

"Wow," was all Rick could say.

Michonne arched an eyebrow. "Wow is… good?"

Wow is… perfect."

Michonne gave him a brilliant smile and Rick gently grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it, his eyes never leaving hers.

It was a magical moment, save for the _click_ of a camera phone.

" _That_ needs to go on Instagram," Sasha stated. "It was stunning."

"Let me see," said Andrea, approaching Sasha. She gasped. "Oh my. You two look perfect. Pose for a real picture."

"Okay, but nothing gets posted on anything ," Michonne warned, posing next to Rick.

"Yah, yah, we know," said Sasha gloomily. "You and your love of privacy."

"Well everyone can't be Andrea, who puts up pictures of her boyfriend and then has to delete them two weeks later when she finds someone new."

"But you and Rick have been dating for _months_ ," Andrea pointed out.

"That's because we're not on social media," stated Rick.

Michonne's laugh made him laugh.

…

Even though they'd been dating for a few months now, this was their first official public event. They'd gone on dates, they went _out_ , but this… this was an event where all eyes would be on Michonne, and thus, that meant all eyes would be on him, as her date.

He was somewhat nervous, but he didn't need to be. Everyone loved Michonne, and she continued to put him at ease.

The grand opening was a complete and utter success. He couldn't help but be proud of her. He knew how much blood, sweat, and tears had gone into making this night possible. A lot of hard work, dedication, and sacrifice.

And Rick couldn't think of anyone more deserving.

At the end of the night, when the grand opening had truly been everything Michonne had wanted, needed, and imagined, Rick pulled Michonne away for a moment. Taking her to a dark corner he kissed her, softly, gently, lovingly.

"Congrats on a successful night," he whispered.

She smiled at him, her grin lighting up the dark space. "Thank you for sharing it with me."

* * *

Didn't have a NYE story so I thought this would suffice lol. 2016 has brought a lot of deaths, so u all please be safe out there. For anyone going out please don't drink and drive. There is Uber, Lyft, taxis/cabs, and DDs. Be SMART. I wanna see you all in 2017 so we can keep gushing over Richonne and talking shit about Trump.


	100. Tan Lines

_For some reason I'm lowkey obsessed with Rick taking off that darn wedding ring. Here's another one-shot about it where TF realized it was gone_.

 **TAN LINES**

 **Rated K**

The knock was so soft that at first Carl thought he had imagined it. The second knock was more persistent, and Carl, fresh out the shower, made his way to his bedroom door.

"Who is it?" Carl asked.

"Your father and your baby sister," replied Rick, and Carl grinned.

"Hold on, give me a sec." Carl threw on his pajamas – it was early yet, but he was tired; today's physical therapy had worn him out, and according to Denise, that was normal. When he was dressed he opened the door to see his father holding Judith.

"Where's Michonne?" Carl asked.

"She's coverin' watch for Sasha. She'll be here in about an hour."

"Oh." Carl frowned. Tonight would be the first night Michonne hadn't helped tuck him in. As childish as it sounded, he looked forward to that moment.

Seemingly reading his thoughts Rick shifted. "I'm sure she'll stop in and say goodnight before she heads to bed. That's what she used to do, before…." Rick's voice trailed and Carl turned his back on his father, neither one of them wanting to address the elephant in the room. Carl was sure they would talk about it at some point – they would have to – but for now, Carl was talking to Denise, and occasionally Michonne, and that was enough.

"So what's up?"

Rick hesitated for another second and then stepped inside Carl's room, closing the door softly behind him. Carl felt his throat catch. Uh oh. Whatever it is, it was serious.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said, coming closer and motioning for Carl to sit. " _Both_ of you, really." Rick glanced down at Judith and sat down on Carl's desk chair.

Carl sat down on his bed and braced himself for whatever was coming. He couldn't imagine what his father was about to tell him…. He couldn't think of anything that would warrant a serious conversation that didn't or wouldn't involve Michonne.

Unless it was _about_ Michonne….

"Listen, Son, there's no easy way for me to say this, so I'm jus' come out and say it. You're a man now, so I'm hopin' you'll be mature about this." Carl kept his face masked and waited for whatever his father had to say. "I've been thinkin' about your mom a lot lately."

Carl blinked in surprise and stared at his father. " _What_?"

"Carl, you know despite how things ended between me and your mom I loved her very much. Right?" Rick squinted at his son.

"Yah, of course."

"And no matter what happens, I will always love her."

Carl continued to blink at his dad. "I know."

"But there comes a time in a man's life where he has to let go."

Carl frowned. "Isn't that what you were trying to do with Jessie?"

Rick suddenly stood stock-still. That was something else they didn't really talk about either. Ever.

"Jessie was a mistake," stated Rick, and Carl wondered if his father heard the coldness in his own voice. "I _did_ try to move on with her, but not for the right reasons. It never would have worked." Rick took a deep breath, shifting Judith to his other leg. "The reason I wanted to talk to you has nothin' to do with Jessie. It's about Lori, and my need to… let her go."

Now Carl stood stock-still.

Rick took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. "I think it's time I take off the weddin' ring."

Carl stared at his father and then his eyes traveled to the silver band around his dad's hand. It'd been there for as long as Carl could remember. It was like seeing his father with both of his legs or his sheriff's uniform.

"What brought this on?" asked Carl.

Rick shrugged. "I firs' started thikin' about it around the time I met Jessie. I'm not proud of who I was in that moment, but I needed that time. She made me realize that eventually… it was okay to move on."

Carl tilted his head. "And you think now is that time?"

Rick shook his head. "No. I think now is the time to let your mother go."

Carl stared at his father, something prickling in the back of his mind. It took him a few seconds to grasp the thought, and then it hit him head on: Carl found himself wondering if his father's need to take off his wedding ring had anything to with Michonne.

Instead of flat out asking, Carl chose his next question carefully. "So… there's no one… or no reason that made you want to take it off other than wanting to let Mom go?"

"Not at all. It just feels like it's the right time."

Carl nodded. "Okay."

Rick blinked at him for several moments. "That it? Jus'… okay?"

"Yah," shrugged Carl. "It's fine."

And it would be even better once his father realized he was doing it for Michonne.

…

Morgan made his way to the table, greeting everyone as he sat down. He placed his stick down, and as his custom, greeted Judith a chin tickle. The little girl blubbered out a laugh that filled the entire room with joy, and Morgan grinned at her.

It was a typical morning, with the typical sounds he had grown accustomed to: Carl's spoon scraping against his plate, Judith blabbering, Michonne fussing over breakfast, Rick scraping his chair.

It took him a couple of more seconds to realize what was different.

Rick was eating, but the usual scrape of his utensil hitting his wedding ring was missing. Morgan glanced at Rick, who was currently talking to Michonne – and his voice was lighter, Morgan noted, his tone gentler – and Morgan noticed that the ring was gone. All that was visible was a tan line where the ring used to be.

He went back to eating, Morgan contemplating on if he was surprised or not.

It made his own ring finger twitch. He, of course, wasn't ready, even though his wife had been dead long before Lori. Different circumstances. Morgan had heard some things over the past few weeks, so it really should come as no surprise.

When he'd first arrived at Alexandria, he had actually thought Rick and Michonne were a thing. It didn't take long to realize that they weren't, but that they definitely should be.

Maybe this would be the start.

Morgan shifted, clearing his mind. He had to get used to the fact that he wouldn't be hearing Rick's ring anymore.

It shouldn't take too long to get used to.

His concentration was broken with a knock on the door.

Everyone got quiet all at once. Early morning visits weren't all that usual.

Carl and Rick grabbed their guns. Michonne's hand rested on her sword. Morgan grabbed his stick.

All of it was forgotten a few seconds later when Glenn walked through the door.

After nodding at Glenn Morgan turned back around and started emptying his mind.

He had one less sound to remember.

…

Glenn walked up to Rick. "Hey," he said softly. "You got a minute?"

"Of course," said Rick, and glancing at Michonne, Rick made his way out of the kitchen and followed Glenn out to the porch. "Everything okay?"

"Not really. I'm not sure if it's the pregnancy or what, but Maggie's getting worried about the food supply. None of the crops are really growing. She's wondering if we should start scouting again."

Rick shifted. "Do you think it's necessary? I don't think I'm ready to leave Carl yet…."

Glenn shrugged. "Like I said, I don't know if it's the pregnancy or something else. But she knows crops, and the same way you're worried about Carl, we're worried about this unborn child."

Rick nodded, placing his hands on his hips. "Carl _is_ doin' better. Denise says he's makin' progress with PT. I'll talk to Maggie, and if she thinks we should scout for food, I'll talk to Daryl."

Glenn nodded. "Okay. Thanks."

Rick smiled. "I remember what it was like bein' a first time parent. Lori was way worse than me. Your child will be taken care of."

Glenn grinned. "Were you a nervous wreck?"

"Oh my God," admitted Rick, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Glenn realized Rick's wedding ring was off. "I would pretend to be strong for Lori, but whenever I was alone, I was petrified."

Glenn heard Rick but wasn't really listening. Glenn kept his eyes on the tan line around Rick's finger, in the exact shape of his wedding ring. With his brow furrowed, Glenn wondered what it meant.

Maybe he forgot to put it back on after his shower.

Assuming it was an accident, Glenn shook his head and told Rick that Maggie was in the garden, then he made his way down the stairs and towards the armory.

…

Maggie wiped her brow as she dug into the earth. The crops should grow based on her blood, sweat, and tears alone. This work was exhausting. She had no idea how she used to do this on a farm.

Then again, she had never been pregnant before.

Pregnancy tired was an entirely different type of tired.

Before she could start convincing herself to take a break, she felt a presence next to her. She looked up to find Rick bending down.

"Would you like some help?" he asked.

Maggie smiled. "I think we had enough of Farmer Rick back at the prison. We need Scouting Rick."

Rick chuckled and nodded. "Glenn told me you thought we should be scountin'. On a scale on one to ten, how bad is it?"

"We have enough to last us another month and a half or so, but do we really wanna push it?" Maggie glanced at him, frowning. "We've finally got a safe-haven, Glenn and I made a conscious decision to have this baby, and now the crops won't grow."

She could feel herself getting emotional.

"Hey," said Rick, laying a gentle hand on her arm. "If you think we need more food, I'll get us more food."

"I know it's not fair to ask you." Maggie sniffed. "Carl's only been home a few weeks, I can understand you not wantin' to leave him—"

"Hey… you're family," interrupted Rick. "I'll talk to Daryl and we'll go out and start lookin'."

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

"I know," Rick nodded, and his hand slid down to grasp hers. "Daryl and I will take care of it."

"Thank you, Rick," whispered Maggie, clutching his hand back.

She nearly started when she realized that his hand was vacant of his wedding ring. The pale skin glowed nearly white where the silver band used to be. His tan line was much more pronounced than hers was – then again, he'd been married much longer.

Despite the dire need for food, Maggie couldn't help but smile softly.

He was letting Lori go.

And maybe, hopefully, he making room for someone else.

A woman who already loved him, and he loved back.

…

Daryl watched as Rick approached the garage. He continued cleaning one of Aaron's license plates until Rick was next to him.

"Sup?"

"Maggie thinks we should go on a run."

Daryl stopped and glanced at Rick. "No shit?"

Rick arched an eyebrow. "Don't sound so excited."

"Oh, come on, man. You mean you ain't a little anxious to get back out there? Not e'en a little bit?"

Rick sighed. "Truthfully I'm not ready to leave Carl yet."

Daryl sighed. "Look, man, we was all worried about Carl, but he's fine. Hell that kid's got as many lives as you do, and both of you got more lives than a damn cat. Carl's in good hands. The entire community is lookin' after him, and if that ain't enough, he's got Michonne. You've left Carl in her care or more than one occasion."

"That's true," nodded Rick.

"Damn right it is. She ain't gon' let nothin' happen to them. And if she ain't enough, Father Gabriel's getting' good with his weapons. And Judith loves him. Him and Carl have bonded. Ain't nothin' gon happen to no one. You need to breathe a little."

"I'm tryin'," Rick said softly.

Daryl looked at him skeptically, his dark eyes sweeping over his best friend. He would have told Rick to try harder – it was on the tip of his tongue – when Daryl saw the circular tan line.

A tan line meant there was no ring.

"Holy shit," stated Daryl. "Your weddin' ring."

"What?" Rick looked down at his hand. "Oh, right. Yah, I took it off this mornin'." Daryl stared at Rick, but he didn't seem to think it was a big deal. "So let's plan to go out tomrorw, okay?"

"Yah, alright," Daryl muttered. Rick nodded and started to walk away. "Hey." Rick stopped walking and turned to face Daryl "Any reason why you removed your ring?"

Rick shrugged, looking down again. After pausing for a few seconds he said, "It was time."

Daryl nodded. He couldn't disagree. It was definitely about time.

He'd give it a few weeks, a month at the most, before Rick realized it. But he _would_ realize it.

He took that ring off for Michonne.

It was about damn time.

* * *

Happy New Year's, everyone! I trust your brought in 2017 safely! This is my 100th post, yall! It's CRAZY! I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of your for all the continued support. Your prompts and requests and reviews have really carried me through over the course of this past year. 2016 was a hot ass mess, but you all kept me. Here's to a hundred more stories, and a hundred more after that, and a hundred more after that!


	101. Never Have I Ever

_Set sometime at the prison, before the Governor destroyed everything. Bastard. Warning: borderline crack fic lol._

 **NEVER HAVE I EVER**

 **Rated T cus Daryl curses in my mind lol**

Rick was just about to start tucking Judith in, placing a soft kiss on her cheek and placing her in her crib, when Glenn came into the cell.

"Hey," he breathed, and it was obvious he'd run here. "They're back."

Rick felt the familiar swoop in his stomach, attributing it to relief – that's what he told himself it was every time he heard those words.

"When?" asked Rick, his heart hammering. He put Judith down, already heading out of the cell.

"They just pulled in. I came as soon as I saw the headlights."

Rick nodded his thank you and headed down the cell block, calling for Carl. His son poked his head out of his cell. "Michonne and Daryl are back."

Carl's face showed the same excitement that Rick felt. Together they made their way downstairs and outside. Michonne and Daryl had just gotten out of the car. Rick jogged up to them, a smile on his face.

"Well aren't you two a sight for sore eyes?" asked Rick. "You find him?"

Michonne shook her head at the same time that Daryl said, "Nah."

Rick looked them over in silence, noting the way Carl ran up to Michonne, wrapping his arms around her. She laughed and hugged him back, though her eyes met his. He felt the familiar swoop that he'd grown accustomed to ignoring.

"We found somethin' nearly as good as the Governor, though," continued Daryl as he made his way to the backseat.

Rick's head whipped towards Daryl's. "What?" Rick's hand traveled to his back pocket, where his knife rested. Rick could barely see Daryl's smirk in the dark, but it was there nonetheless. Rick felt himself relax.

"Booze."

Rick blinked. " _Booze_?"

"Booze," repeated Daryl, holding up a few cases of beer. "And lots of it."

"We've already declared we'll have a drinking game," and Michonne's smile was blinding even in the darkness. "Hershel can keep watch. Beth can watch Judith. Carl will be in bed. Just the adults tonight."

Rick just blinked at them. " _Seriously_?"

"Yup," Daryl nodded. "So get washed up and meet us downstairs. Tonight we're gettin' wasted."

Michonne laughed and grabbed several bags that Rick could only assume was full of alcohol. Daryl had several more bags in his hands. He watched them go, Carl following behind him, chatting with Michonne.

Crazy. They were both crazy.

After a few moments, Rick made his way back inside.

…

They all sat on the concrete floor, in a circle: Daryl, Michonne, Carol, Maggie, Glenn, and Rick. They had all taken pre-game shots of tequila – a couple of rounds, actually – so they were all feeling pretty good now that their cups were full.

"Okay, I'm assumin' everyone knows how to play," Daryl said.

"Not really," admitted Maggie.

Michonne spoke. "Basically whosever turn it is makes a statement, starting with 'Never have I ever,' and if the rest of the group has done it, then they have to drink." Maggie just blinked. "And you have to be honest."

"Can we just promise to keep it somewhat light and airy?" Glenn asked.

"I'll drink to that," muttered Daryl, lifting his cup. Then he perked up. "Never have I ever ridden a horse," Rick sent him a look and Daryl grinned. Rick brought his cup up to his lips, as did Maggie, Glenn, and Michonne. Daryl looked at Michonne. "Your turn."

Michonne stared ahead thoughtfully. "Never have I ever gotten a grade lower than a B."

Daryl snorted. "If I got a B in anything it was a good day." He took a drink, along with Rick and Glenn.

They all stared at Carol expectantly. "Never have I ever…" she paused, looking around, "been in jail before now."

"Aw man," Daryl whined. Rick stared, surprised, as Daryl drank. He was the only one to do so.

"Uh, Rick… you should be drinking," said Michonne.

"I've never been in jail," Rick said, confused.

"You're a _cop_ ," reminded Michonne.

Rick's mouth dropped open. "That doesn't count."

"Drink up," Carol said, and everyone laughed as Rick took a defiant sip. "Your turn, Maggie."

"Hmmm. Never have I ever flirted my way out of a speeding ticket."

Michonne threw her head back and laughed. "A couple of times," she said, lifting her glass. She was the only one to drink. They all turned to Glenn.

"Never have I ever danced in the rain." Michonne drank again, her eyes narrowing at everyone.

"What _have_ you people done?" They all laughed. When their laughter died down they all looked at Rick.

"Never have I ever dined and dashed."

"Course not," Daryl said with an eye roll.

Once again Michonne drank. Rick arched an eyebrow.

" _What_?" asked Michonne. "Look, it was on my bucket list, okay? I was dating this guy, and we went to a really fancy restaurant…. We both knew it was wrong. Of _course_ we knew it was wrong. We ordered every expensive thing imaginable, and ate it too. And then when it was time to go…." Her voice trailed off, her dark eyes glittering with amusement.

"Twenty bucks say the next day you went back and paid," Rick stated, watching her.

"You'd be twenty dollars short, then thank you very much." They all just looked at her. "Okay, okay, okay. I went back the following week. But it wasn't the next day, thank you very much."

They all fell into a fit of giggles again, the tequila obviously working its magic.

"Okay, your turn again Daryl," Carol said.

"Never have I ever… killed a walker with a katana."

No one expected anyone other than Michonne to drink, but when they saw Rick drink too, all of them looked at him, shocked.

"Michonne's let me use it a couple of times," admitted Rick.

Maggie's mouth dropped open. "That's not fair. You've never let _me_ use it."

"Rick is… persuasive," Michonne stated. "Besides, he lets me shoot with his Colt Python."

"Son of a bitch," exclaimed Daryl. "You won't even let me _look_ at that thing."

"Hey, have I ever used your bow?"

Daryl just looked at him. "Oh, that's different." Rick rolled his eyes, his lips upturned.

Michonne raised her cup. "Never have I been this drunk." Everyone except Daryl and Carol drank. "I'm all out." Michonne turned her cup upside down.

"I'll take care of that." Daryl got up and grabbed a bottle of tequila, pouring a healthy amount in Michonne's cup.

"Never have I ever," Carol started, "had sex on watch."

The entire group burst into laughter as Carol wiggled her eyebrows at Glenn and Maggie, who blushed furiously as they sipped their drinks.

"Hey, don't be shy. _Someone_ should get some," said Michonne, causing Carol to laugh even harder.

"Never have I ever ridden a motorcycle," Glenn said. Daryl mock glared at him and drank a mouthful, Michonne taking a tentative sip beside him. Glenn looked shocked. "You _have_?"

Michonne shrugged. "Daryl let me ride once."

They all looked at Daryl expectantly. "Wha'? She wouldn't stop askin'."

"Softy," muttered Carol, and Daryl snorted.

"Never have I ever been anywhere other than Georgia and California," Rick said to the group. Michonne drank again, and she was the only one to do so. Rick looked her over. "Where've you been?"

Michonne shrugged. "Lots of places. The summer of my senior year I studied abroad in Paris to get an early start on college. I've got family in Zimbabwe. I've got cousins in California." She paused for a moment. "Well… _had_."

And just like that the mood shifted.

"All right," Carol stated. "I think it's time for bed."

The others nodded and started getting up, most of them finishing their drinks before they left. Maggie and Glenn helped each other up.

"You two better be as quiet as humanly possible tonight," Rick called after them, and the two of them snickered out. Daryl said goodnight, walking straighter than any of them, and Carol wished him goodnight as she passed.

Eventually it was just Michonne and Rick left.

She looked… sad. "You all right?" asked Rick softly.

She spared him a glance. "Yah."

Rick wanted to touch her. Comfort her, some kind of way, but they were still learning each other. He wasn't sure it was his place. There was a lot he didn't know about her, but he knew the sadness in her eyes.

She'd lost loved ones, just like he had. Maybe a husband. Probably a child. Most likely a child.

He had no words of comfort for her. He wouldn't know what to say regardless.

So, he said the only thing that felt real. "Well… whenever you're not okay… you can come to me."

She looked at him for a few seconds, and then her eyes softened slightly. She sent him a nod, and he left her alone with her thoughts.


	102. Common Interests

_Another Richonne A/U_.

 **COMMON INTERESTS**

 **Rated K**

Rick tapped his foot, whether from nerves or anger he couldn't be sure. Probably both. Most likely both.

He felt like he was in the principal's office, though he'd never been in a principal's office that looked like _this_. There were bright colors everywhere, the furniture was both modern and traditional, and it was bright. The desk was neat and organized and made of glass. There was a plush white area rug underneath her desk to tone down the black furniture, which helped highlight all the artwork.

There was an intriguing colorful cat sculpture on top of her desk that Rick couldn't stop glancing at.

He was tempted to reach out and touch it, and just when he was about to, the door opened.

"Officer Grimes," the woman breathed. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting."

Rick stood up and turned to face her, intent on fixing her with a glare. He had a million places to be, and he didn't have time for this.

Except when he finally looked at her, all he could do was stare.

She was _stunning_ to say the least.

She had long braids, currently piled up on top of her head, and she wore a dark pink dress that looked beautiful against her dark skin. The gold jewelry highlighted her golden undertones and he found himself blinking rapidly. Her beauty was blinding, almost like the sun, though there was a quiet strength about her that he saw. It had him comparing her to the moon as well.

"Dr. Rogers," he finally stated, and he held out his hand.

"Please, call me Michonne," she smiled, and she shook his hand. "Please, have a seat. I'm glad you could make it on such short notice."

"Well I didn't exactly have a choice, did I?" And just like that, his irritation returned. Rick sat as Dr. Rogers – _Michonne_ – sat. She bought a mug to her lips – and he noticed the familiar Hogwarts school on the front of it – and took a dainty sip, her eyes meeting his over the rim of her cup.

"I take it you're not happy to be here?" The question was gentle enough, but he got the feeling she was evaluating him.

"Look, can you jus' tell me what this is about? Principle Monroe called me and insisted I come down here and talk to you."

Michonne placed the mug down and folded her arms against her desk, leaning forward slightly.

"I wanted to talk to you about Carl."

Rick let out a low breath. "Why else would the school counselor wanna meet with me?" Rick leaned back, his frustration evident. "What's he done now?"

"He… defaced school property."

Rick's eyes fluttered closed and he took a deep breath. "I'll handle it."

"How?" Michonne's question was blunt.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "That is none of your concern."

Michonne gave him another smile. "Actually… it is. Principal Monroe wants to expel Carl."

Rick's heart stopped. "Wait, now hold on. I'm jus' as upset as all of you, but takin' him outta school… I mean I don't really see how that'll help."

"We're actually on the same page, here. For the past six months we've observed Carl. We've seen him escalate from petty acting out to fist fights, and now to this. I'm concerned, and he won't talk to me. Last month Principal Monroe and you agreed that Carl would see me, but we're not getting anywhere. He won't open up."

Rick rolled his eyes. "That's my fault. It seems as if Grimes' men have trouble communicating." The bitterness in his voice wasn't lost on Michonne.

She leaned back, studying him, and he kept her gaze, even though it made him uncomfortable. He got the distinct impression that she could see through him, right down to his soul.

"Can you tell me what's going on?"

"Again, I'm not sure that's any of your business."

"Carl is going through a simple acting out phase, but unless I know what he's acting out against, I'm not going to be able to help him. Let me ask you: how would you feel if you had to arrest your son? Because let me tell you, that's the path he's going down if one of you don't start talking." Rick blinked at her as his stomach dropped. "Carl's not a bad kid."

"I know he's not." His voice was colder than he imagined, but he could nearly predict the 'but' coming out of Michonne's mouth.

Michonne just blinked at him, waiting out his anger in silence. When she was sure he wouldn't speak again, she opened her mouth. "Like I was saying, Carl's not a bad kid. He's obviously just going through something. I'm damned good at what I do, but I'm not a miracle worker. I either need his help, or your help. I would prefer both."

Rick looked down for a few minutes, the silence thickening. "His mother and I are goin' through a divorce."

"Okay," said Michonne softly. "Now we're getting somewhere. Divorces are completely normal nowadays."

"Not in my neck of the woods. My parents have been married for fifty years. My brother and his wife have been married for twenty. My grandparents were married for sixty years."

"What I'm saying is that there's enough research on how to help Carl. I think of divorce as a death – a marriage has died. Therefore, it's a grieving process."

Rick shook his head. "It's more than that."

Michonne nodded. "I know. You can confide in me. I won't even charge you for my services."

He chuckled at that, looking up at her. He eyed her for a few seconds before continuing. "Lori… Lori had an affair with my best friend. Shane is… _was_ … like a brother to me. Lori swears she didn't mean for it to happen, but… the point is, it did, and it kept happening. I didn't just lose my wife, I lost my best friend, and Carl lost someone who was like an uncle. I didn't want Carl to know at all… I didn't want him to see his mother differently, but Lori and Shane decided they wanted to be together…." Rick's voice trailed off as he let that sink in. It was the first time he'd said it aloud. "Naturally they had to tell Carl, and naturally he was pissed."

"So he's lost everybody," concluded Michonne. "He lost his mother, who made a decision that ultimately changed his perspective of her. He lost someone who was probably like the cool uncle, who he could talk to about things that he couldn't with you because he wasn't his father. And he lost his father, because from what I've learned, you've buried yourself in your work in order to not think about what's happening."

Rick frowned. "People in this town talk to damn much," he muttered.

"That may be so, but that doesn't mean it's not the truth." Rick remained silent. "I think the problem is that you and Carl both feel alone, and you don't have to. At the very least, you have each other."

"Yah, well, my son hates me right now."

"Carl does not hate you. If anything I think he thinks you hate him."

"I _love_ my son."

Michonne nodded. "I know you do. But maybe it's time to show your son that you _like_ him." Rick remained mute. "I'm going to suggest that Principal Monroe allow Carl to stay in school. I do think, however, that Carl should do some community service. There's a local group that gets together every Saturday at eight in the morning. We help clean up the streets, repaint walls where gangs have written with graffiti… constructive things like that."

Rick nodded, his stomach loosening a little. "That actually sounds like a great idea."

"Great. Then I'll see you both Saturday morning."

Rick arched an eyebrow, rising as she rose. "Both of us?"

Michonne smiled again. "Yes, both of you." Rick frowned. "I don't get Carl without you. That's the only way this works."

He stared at her. "You don't get told no very often, do you?"

"No I do not, Officer Grimes."

"Rick, please."

"Rick," she amended softly. She approached him, and suddenly she was much closer than he would have liked. He could smell her perfume, and it was _intoxicating_. "I'll see you in a few days."

He nodded, but didn't immediately move. He was momentarily transfixed. After a few seconds he finally snapped out of it and headed towards the door.

"It was a pleasure meeting you," he told her, and he found that he meant it. "He needs you. I can't be his father and his best friend."

"We'll get through this," assured Michonne. "Whatever happens, I'm still with you. We're on the same side."

It seemed like they had common interests. He found he liked the sound of that.

* * *

Don't ask me where this came from LOL. I know, not a lota romance but there was "common interests," right? Haha.


	103. Coming Together

_SO! FINALLY an episode of TWD I've liked since 6x10. 7x4 "Serve" had SO many Richonne nuggets, and JUDITH TALK! Ah! OMG stop it! I'm NEVER one to compliment Scott Gimple, but I did love this scene! I have suspected from day one that Judith wasn't Rick's, it just seemed impossible, but to hear him say it actually broke my heart lol._

 _Now DG had an interview where she states Michonne would never have guessed from the way Rick took care of Judith that she wasn't his. SOME people have taken that to mean that Michonne didn't know. I disagree. I think all DG was saying that it's obvious Rick loves Judith as his own, regardless. I'm going to stand by my POV that Andre blabbed and that if Morgan knew about the things that Carol had done, gossiping hasn't died, and at some point in time, someone said SOMETHING, even if it wasn't Andrea. But my bet is Andrea did say something._

 _Anyway, I loved this ending scene and had to elaborate on it._

 **COMING TOGETHER**

 **Rated T because… well shit, it's a dark episode/one-shot**

Rick walked into the house, his hand still burning – whether from holding Lucille or his overwhelming desire to use it on Negan, he wasn't sure. He wiped his hands on his pants, trying to get the image of Michonne's face when she saw him carrying it out of his mind.

 _Michonne_.

His heart lurched at the thought of her. She was pissed. Pissed at him, at the situation, at their life…. He wanted to fix it. He _needed_ to fix it. He just didn't know _how_. They weren't talking…. What the hell was there to _say_?

What the hell was there to _do_?

Rick glanced around the house. It was pointless, he knew. Michonne wasn't downstairs, and neither was Carl.

They both hated him.

He would accept their hate over their deaths.

As he climbed the steps Rick wondered just how deep that hate was. Michonne had dropped that deer and walked away, a scowl on her face, and Rick couldn't help but wonder if she was walking away from him. She just seemed so _angry_ , and he couldn't blame her.

Michonne was a fighter. _They_ were fighters. They didn't take threats lying down, and if they did, it was never for long. They strategized, they came up with plans, they _fought back_. Only they couldn't do that now, because Abraham, and Glenn….

He had to think about Michonne, and Carl, and Judith, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why Michonne couldn't understand that.

"I'm not losing you, or Carl, or anyone else. _I'm not losing anyone else_." Those were the words he'd spoken to her in that house, after he'd asked for that rifle, after he damn near _begged_ her to understand from his point of view.

The fact that he wasn't sure she was even _home_ made him think they still weren't seeing eye to eye.

No one understood right now.

He didn't expect Spencer to. _Spencer_ , the sniveling, whining weasel that he was didn't understand _shit_. Rick would make good on his threat. He knew that. And he hoped Spencer knew that.

" _You say anything like that again to me, I'll break your jaw and knock your teeth out_." He hadn't known where the words had come from. The _rage_ was obvious. Here was someone he could do something to, and he wasn't even sure anyone would even miss the bastard.

But it was the words that played back in his head now as he made his way to his room. He'd said something like that to someone before. Someone he still thought about, every day, though he never mentioned him.

Someone who had been on his mind more than ever lately.

His thoughts were interrupted when he arrived at the bedroom door.

Their mattress was gone.

He stared at the pile of covers and pillows scattered around the room, and swallowed down the rage that was threatening to spill. This was not the worst thing Negan had done. It wasn't. He had done worse.

Tilting his head to the side Rick gritted his teeth and walked into the bedroom. He gathered everything together and started making the bed, reminding himself to remain calm. He could do this. He _could_ do this. He _had_ to do this.

Just think of Carl.

Michonne.

Judith.

 _Judith_. He bent down and grabbed the baby monitor, turning it upright, and then the lamp. He unwrapped the cover, the pounding in his heart so damn distracting that he didn't even hear Michonne when she approached the door.

More proof that they weren't in sync at the moment. He _always_ knew when she was near. He could smell her, hear her, _feel_ her.

They locked eyes, briefly, before he turned back and tossed the pillows. He didn't want to ignore her. He _couldn't_ ignore her. So he stilled, placing his hands on his knees. Still on his knees he turned to her.

"They took our mattresses. Most of 'em." He continued his attempt to make the bed, grabbing the sheet.

Michonne didn't immediately say anything. She just walked inside, glancing around. "That rifle was one of theirs from the outpost." She leaned against the wall. "They didn't have a list." Rick looked at her and then shook his head. "We could have hid more."

Panic immediately crept in. "Did you?" She stared at him, and he stared back. He couldn't read her. _He couldn't read her_. It had been _months_ since he couldn't read her.

She took a deep breath. "No."

She could be lying. She was probably lying. Hell, he had hidden a gun from her when they'd first gotten to Alexandria. He'd _deserve_ the lie. But the thought of anything happening to her if the Saviors found any more guns…. He kept his eyes on her, trying to find the lie, or the truth, or _anything_.

In the end she ended up walking out.

He felt his heart relocated to his stomach. He wanted to call after her. He needed to make her understand. How many times had Lori told him to just _communicate_?

 _Lori_. Someone else he'd been thinking about lately.

He pushed the thought away, pushed all the thoughts away, thought about just shutting down, when Michonne walked back inside.

"Everything we got, we have from fighting." Rick could hear the slight tremor in her voice, could see the anger on her face.

"I made the choice." _Why_ couldn't she _get that_? Communicate. _Talk_. "There aren't enough of us, it's about numbers."

"There's a Hilltop," reasoned Michonne.

"They still have the _numbers_." It was true, he knew it was true, Michonne knew it was true, she was just angry and she wasn't thinking straight. He hated it. God he _hated_ it, but this is how they stayed alive. "We play by their rules," he said after a pause. "And we get some kind of life."

"What kind of life?"

It was a valid question, one that he had a simple answer for in his mind: a life where they get to _live_. And that was enough for him for now. But it wasn't enough for her. He had to make her see.

"I had a friend." Rick paused…. This wouldn't be easy for him, but he had to talk to her. He _had_ to. He shook his head, as everything he'd been holding in threatened to burst out. "I don't talk about him. He was my partner." Rick watched as Michonne's face gently softened, and he wondered, fleetingly, if Andrea had already told her. He pushed that thought aside and continued. "He got Lori and Carl to safety right after it all started. I couldn't, I was in the hospital, I didn't know what was happenin'." He looked down. "My friend, his name was Shane, him and Lori… they were together." He glanced at her, for a second, and then looked back down, as he finally admitted this aloud. He nodded, remembering what Shane and Lori had told him. "They thought I was dead." Another pause as he braced himself for the final blow, finally looking Michonne in the eye. "I know Judith isn't mine." He closed his eyes, as the pressure started to release. "I know it." He exhaled harshly. "I love her. She's my daughter. But she isn't mine." Michonne tilted her head, and he could see the understanding start to wash over her. "I had to accept that. I did. So I could keep her alive. I'll die before she does, and I hope that's a long time from now so I can raise her, protect her, and teach her how to survive…." He paused, staring at Michonne, willing her to get it. "This is how we live now. I had to accept that too so I could keep everyone else alive."

Michonne looked at Rick, tears in the brim of her eyes. "It's not your fault when people die."

"Not always, but sometimes… sometimes it is." He felt like his heart would explode from the guilt. "You have to accept this. All of us do." But especially you, he wanted to add. Because he couldn't lose her. And that's all he wanted her to see and understand. He couldn't lose _her_. Not her. "Or it won't work." _They_ couldn't work.

Michonne stood there for a few seconds, and then slowly walked towards Rick. Bending down she grabbed one of the blankets and started helping him make the bed. She looked at him, knowing they needed to come together.

"I'm gonna try," she whispered to him.

He glanced at her slightly, trying not to show how relieved he was. Nodding, he acknowledged the effort, also silently thanking her.

She was trying.

It wasn't much. But for now, that was enough for him.

* * *

I hope you all liked this one! Sorry for posting so late, but IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, so needless to say my day has been hectic. I am one year away from 30, yall! Anyway, yall have a blessed weekend!


	104. Not Okay

_Rick comforts Michonne. Just one way I felt the show SHOULD have gone after the LV._

 **NOT OKAY**

 **Rated T**

Rick woke up because something felt… off. He reached out for Michonne but was greeted with air. He sat up in bed, realizing that Michonne's side was empty, the covers tossed back. He peaked at the bathroom, noted the door was wide open, the light off.

She wasn't here, and from the coolness of her side of the bed, she hadn't been here for a while.

He sat up, slipping back on his boxers, then his pants. He looked around for his shirt, deduced that Michonne must have it on, and walked to the dresser and pulled out another one.

He headed to Judith's room, thinking that was the most likely place she'd been, only Judith's room was empty. His daughter was resting peacefully, not a care in the world. Rick found himself smiling softly at the sight of her.

She was the only one that could really make him smile anymore.

Rick left Judith's room and headed to Carl's. His son had one gun on his chest, another on his nightstand, and Rick also knew he had one under his pillow.

They all had multiple weapons on hand now, with Negan.

Realizing Michonne wasn't in this room – he hadn't really expected her to be – he made his way downstairs.

"Michonne?" he called softly.

No answer.

He hadn't expected one. The living room was dark, and quiet, and empty.

Hesitating briefly Rick wondered if Michonne was in Daryl's room.

Daryl, who was currently being held hostage by Negan.

He walked into Daryl's room, but found it empty.

Panic started to seep in as he started to wonder where Michonne was. It wasn't her turn to take watch, she had no reason to be out there. Still, the fear started to creep its way in.

He _knew_ Michonne. What if she wanted to find Negan, like she had wanted to find the Governor? What if she had snuck off in the middle of the night, like she had all those months ago? How many times had he woken up to find her cell empty, her sword gone, enough food for about two weeks missing?

Things had been different between then…. Surely she wouldn't have….

Before he could remember that no one on watch would ever let her go, or that there was no way she could sneak out, or that even if she had managed to go, the person on watch would immediately have come to get him, Rick immediately headed to the front door, opening it so quickly he'd nearly ripped it off of its hinges—

And breathed a sigh of relief. She was there, sitting in the porch. It was pitch black but he could make out her silhouette. He would know her body anywhere.

She was fine.

She was safe.

She was alive.

She was _right here_.

A sniff made him realize that maybe she wasn't fine.

"Michonne?"

Her name startled her, obviously. She gasped and stiffened, and then slowly turned around. Just as she faced him Rick turned on the light.

"Rick," she said softly. She turned away from him, clearly wiping her eyes. "What are you doing up?"

"I was lookin' for you," replied Rick, stepping outside. "You okay?"

"Yah," she told him, still not meeting his eyes.

Rick stood next to her and she shifted a little so that he still couldn't see her. "You're cryin'."

"I'm _fine_." Her voice was firm.

"No you're not," he told her, and _now_ she looked at him, her bloodshot eyes fierce. "I know you're not."

" _How_?" she snapped, and Michonne _never_ snapped.

"Because I'm not okay either," said Rick softly.

Rick watched as Michonne's eyes widened, and then fill with fresh tears.

He had never seen her break before.

Michonne was strong… so strong. He'd let her take care of him, play the role and go through the motions since that fateful night. She did such a good job of falling back into her natural routine: taking care of the children, checking in on him, that _he_ forgot to do the same for her.

She wasn't okay.

"It's okay," Rick said softly, stepping closer to her. "None of us are okay."

"I _have_ to be okay. We don't have time for pity parties or weakness. You need me. Carl needs me. Judith needs me. All of you need me to be strong." Her voice cracked at the end and a few tears escaped.

"The fact that you're not okay doesn't make you weak," stated Rick. "It makes you human."

Michonne just shook her head and put some space between them.

He'd noticed this lately. The way she distanced herself from him.

"Michonne, you can not be okay. That's fine. But you don't get to pull away. Because I'm only gonna push right back." He stepped to her again and gently pulled her in his arms. "It's okay. You can let go. No one but me has to ever know."

Michonne stood rigid in his arms for a few minutes before she finally let out a gentle sob. She wrapped her arms around his beck and Rick buried his face in her neck, breathing her in, and attempting to give her the little strength he currently had.

Because the truth was that he _wasn't_ okay, and he would need her to be strong. But on the days that she needed _him_ to be strong, he would have to sacrifice.

Everyone had a breaking point.

This was hers.

And she was entitled to it.

And she could break down as many times as she needed to, because he vowed that he would always be there for her.

And maybe, maybe one day they would be okay again.

* * *

Thank all of you SO MUCH for the bday love. I am FINALLY working on that multi-fic chapter I promised yall (the one in regards to Chapters 29 and 69). I can't wait for yall to read it! =]


	105. Again

_Again, not a song fic, but inspiration. Really more so like a video inspiration lol. Got this idea while re-reading Beautiful (Chapter 68). Same concept. Title taken from the rock god that is Black boy magic personified: Mr. Lenny Kravitz himself. If you haven't seen it, youtube Lenny's Again video._

 **AGAIN**

 **Rated K**

All of my life  
Where have you been  
I wonder if I'll ever see you again  
And if that day comes  
I know we could win  
I wonder if I'll ever see you again

Rick sat down at the counter, placing his hat down, the bell from the door still ringing even though the front door had been closed for a few seconds. The diner was mostly empty, save for a young couple in the corner that had probably just left a club or bar, like he had. They were sharing a plate of fries.

The counter already had menus, so Rick looked it over for a few seconds.

"What can I get you?"

Rick looked up, but the waitress wasn't looking at him. She had her notepad in her hand and she whipped her pen from behind her ear, placing it against her pad in an indication that she expected him to start talking so that she could start writing.

Her name tag read MICHONNE and he thought it was the most gorgeous name he'd ever heard of.

And _she_ was the most gorgeous creature he'd ever laid his blue eyes on. She had dark skin that rivaled the warmest of summer nights; her dark 'locs were twisted up in a high bun; her light blue and white uniform rose high above her thigh, barely concealing those long, lean legs.

"I'll take a coffee, black." She started jotting it down. "And your best slice of apple pie."

"You wanna add vanilla ice cream on top for a dollar more?"

"Yes, Ma'am, that'll be fine."

She looked up at him then, her eyes displaying shock, and it was the first time he got a look at how dark her eyes were. There was something so exotic, almost otherworldly, about her.

"You may call me Michonne. You can even call me Miss. But please don't call me Ma'am."

"Oh." Rick blushed. "Sorry. Didn't mean to offend you or nothin'."

Michonne sent him a small smile. "It's okay. Just don't let it happen again." He noticed her twinkling eyes and nodded, smiling. She was teasing him. "I'll be right back with your coffee."

She disappeared, Rick staring after her. He already knew she was way out of his league. Not to mention it'd only been a few months since he'd gotten his heart broken and found out his best friend and his girlfriend were messing around behind his back.

He got most of the money back from the ring he had bought.

Still, Rick wanted to ask her for her number.

He might have, too, if someone else hadn't entered the diner at that moment. Rick quickly lost his nerve, even as Michonne came back out, a brilliant smile on her face, with his hot coffee and slice of warm apple pie, the ice cream already melting.

"Now normally we're not supposed to warm the apple pie, but I did so for you." Her voice was low, her eyes darting to her new customers. She lowered herself so that they were eyelevel. "Sh. Don't tell anyone."

He wouldn't have been able to talk regardless.

She winked and moved on to her new customers, taking their orders and disappearing back in the kitchen. The younger couple from earlier got up and left, nodding to Rick as they passed.

Rick never got a chance to ask her for her number. Most of the clubs were starting to close, so she diner was starting to get full. A few more waitresses came, and pretty soon the place was packed.

Michonne didn't even bring him his ticket. Some blonde haired woman with the nametag JESSIE did.

Rick dug into his pocket, pulling out some cash, leaving it for her. Then he made his way out of the diner, looking back one last time, hoping to get a glimpse of her.

He never did.

…

Andrea picked up the tip, walking towards Michonne.

"Not bad for you last night of work. This should really help for law school, right?"

Michonne smiled, grabbing the money. "He was nice."

"And attractive too," agreed Andrea. "Jessie's a hater, making you work back here when it was obvious he was into you. He kept looking for you all night.

Michonne sighed. "It doesn't matter. I'm off to Harvard tomorrow morning."

Andrea gave her a sad smile. "This place won't be the same without you. But… the world needs your mind, and after your LSATs… well it's no wonder Harvard so readily accepted you." She paused for a moment. "I'm gonna miss you."

"It's not goodbye." Michonne hugged Andrea, made the rest of her rounds, even saying goodbye to Jessie, and then left the diner for the last time.

…

Rick made his way into the diner, the bell ringing in his ear. He looked around for a few seconds, and it was easy enough to see that she wasn't out front, even with how busy the diner was. Clearly it was lunchtime.

He thought about sitting at the counter, hoping she was in the kitchen, but something told him she wasn't.

"Hey," said a blonde-haired woman. "You're looking for Michonne, right?" Rick nodded. "I'm Andrea. I'm her best friend. She's not here."

Rick felt his stomach drop. "When will she be back?"

"Honestly? Probably never. She just got into law school."

Rick nodded. "She seems like the type. Listen… when you talk to her… tell her Rick said good luck."

Andrea gave him a soft smile. "Will do, Officer."

Rick left the diner, getting into his cop car.

So much for ever seeing her again.


	106. Coming Home

A/N: OMG YALL! I spent MLK Day at the National Museum of African American History and Culture yesterday. Yall... it was LIFE CHANGING. It felt good to go there after Trump attacked John Lewis, calling him "all talk, no action." JOHN LEWIS? American hero and Civil Right's LEGEND John Lewis, all talk no action? I mean his blood is all over Selma, meanwhile Trump dodged the draft. Yall I was SO mad when Trump said those things, but then I went to that museum and saw all of John's work... and Dr. King's work... and was reminded of how the Civil Right's Movement directly correlates women's rights, and marriage equality, and Barack Obama becoming America's first Black president... none of those things were possible without Dr. King and Mr. "Good trouble" himself John Lewis. And being in that historic museum, seeing all my ancestors and knowing their bravery runs through my veins makes me so proud. The inauguration is a few days away now. Half of that time I have spent numb, so it's kind of snuck up on me. But visiting that museum awakened something in me. I will be attending the 100,000 Women's March the day after the inauguration, and I know there are a few other marches before then. I'm really excited.

On another note, a lot of you have been asking for a sequel/follow up to Again... Ehhh IDK yall. I kinda liked where it ended LOL. BUT I will say, let me think about it. The idea might grow on me. As of right now I'm focusing on the Tired of Pretending multi-fic. It's slow coming. I didn't think about the consequences of having Lori live in a mulit-fic chapter story. Now I gotta get inside her head, and tread VERY carefully, because Rick is NOT a cheater... So it's quite difficult to walk that line but not CROSS that line. Pray for me LOL.

* * *

 _A SHORT story of Michonne returning back to ASZ after dealing with the Savior chick. (Missing scene from 7x8 "Hearts Still Beating.") Carl explains what happened, and where his dad is._

 **COMING HOME**

 **Rated T**

Michonne stepped inside the gates and almost immediately knew that something was wrong. Her stomach clenching, Michonne gripped her sword and made her way into Alexandria. The person on guard wouldn't meet her eye, so her heart in her throat, Michonne ran towards her house, noting the pool table outside.

She stopped abruptly when she noticed the blood, and then the body.

Gasping Michonne looked around, but no one was outdoors.

She slowly approached the body, her sword withdrawn, and tears prickled her eyes the minute she saw who it was.

 _Spencer_.

She inhaled sharply as she knelt down, taking in everything: all the blood, his guts sticking out, the stab wound in his forehead. Michonne closed her eyes, breathing in deeply.

"I am so sorry," she whispered, her lip quivering. They had made a pact to take care of him, to protect Deanna's only living offspring left, and they had failed.

She reached down, caressing his bloodied head, as more tears began to fall.

"Michonne?"

She gasped and spun around, coming face to face with Carl, who held Judith in his arms. She breathed a gentle sigh of relief as she stood up.

"What the hell happened?" asked Michonne quietly, approaching him.

"Negan."

"He came back?" Carl shifted uncomfortably, looking away. " _Carl_?"

Carl looked up at Michonne and released a deep breath. "After you left I snuck out with Enid and took her to Hilltop. Then I snuck into one of Negan's trucks and went back to the Savior's compound, killed two of his men, and Negan brought me back. Negan gutted Spencer, Arat shot Olivia because Rosita tried to kill Negan, only she missed and hit Lucille, so Negan took Eugene since he made the custom bullet from Rosita's gun."

Michonne sighed, stepping away from Carl.

"Don't go off. Please. My dad's already pissed."

Michonne looked around. "Where is he?"

"In the cell Morgan built. I think he locked himself up as a means of restraint against hurting me. He's _pissed_." He'd meant it as a joke – mostly – but it fell flat.

"When we get back, we'll deal with your consequences."

Michonne turned to leave. "Yah, my dad pretty much said the same thing."

Without another glance back, she made her way to the cell to meet Rick.


	107. Storm Within

A/N: I'm moving this prompt up, even though there are several ahead of it, because it seems SO fitting to what I experienced this past weekend. Of COURSE I was one of the millions of women marching against Trump on Saturday. I am (currently) here in DC, and yall…. It was AMAZING. All that unity… all that inclusiveness….. It made me feel so proud. To hear people of ALL ethnicities and backgrounds chanting "NoDAPL" and "Black Lives Matter" and "no to racism" as well as "When they go low, we go high," was incredible. I teared up when chants of "Yes we can" echoed throughout.

This weekend was really hard. To lose my president, and then to have him replaced with this otherworldly being… it has been trying. I was nearly depressed. I teared up/cried a lot. Yall should have seen me when Pres. Obama had his final address. I LITERALLY felt like the man was dying – or maybe I felt America was. To know a Black man was leaving office and being replaced by a man with the AUDACITY to call Rep. John Lewis all talk, no action, was highly disgraceful, especially figuring that Lewis' blood is all over this damn country and Trump DODGED THE EFFING DRAFT. I'm gonna miss POTUS.

When POTUS gave VPOTUS the Presidential Medal of Honor, you would have thought he was giving it to me lol. First of all, JoBama is bromance goals. You think Rickly is a bromance? Or Abe and Rick? Or Jesus and Rick? They've got NOTHING on JoBama lol. They bring me great joy.

And then FLOTUS. My God. What can I say about her? She is perfection. Her class, grace, and dignity is unmatched. Her class should be the standard. Her beauty is so much more than skin deep.

Sasha and Malia… their poise… their FASHION… I mean COME ON!

I will miss this family. I will miss the Obama reign. IDK how I'm going to survive the next four years, but the women's march… it helped. I was filled with hope I haven't felt since November 9th. To know we EASILY beat out Trump's inauguration numbers… that felt _good_. Even with his "alternate facts."

Lastly, I want to shoutout Los Angeles. LA is home, it's where I was born. They expected 80,000 people for the march and got 750,000. It was AMAZING to see. I've been looking at videos of all the major cities – from EVERY continent. 673 protests from all seven continents. That's beautiful. At the end of the day: #WomenCanStopTrump. Because the women at that showed up to those marches CLEARLY weren't the ones who voted for him.

And a special shoutout to all the men I saw there as well, especially the millennials. Yall are our future. _**NOVEMBER 6, 2018 IS WHEN OUR REPRESENTATIVES ARE UP FOR RE-ELECTION. MARK YOUR CALENDARS. THIS DAY IS PIVOTAL!**_

Okay. I've written all that to say that this story shows the strength of unity, which I felt at that march. We WILL be alright, guys.

* * *

 _Prompt—"Rick having a realization in the barn while everyone is fighting to keep the doors closed. Michoone in front of him, Carl pushing just under them, baby Judy behinds them, his family around them..._ _" -_ _LeochickX_

 _Takes place during 5x10 "Them."_

 **STORM WITHIN**

 **Rated K**

The storm was raging outside.

Much like the people within. They were at odds, all of them: Rick and Michonne, Daryl and Carol, Maggie and Father Gabriel, Sasha and Michonne, Noah and Sasha…. Things were falling apart around them. They hadn't had time to _breathe_. If it wasn't one thing, it was another.

They'd been out there too long, and spending the night in a deserted barn wasn't about to change that.

The storm raged on outside, just like it did inside.

Their hope was gone. Losing Bob has crushed Sasha. Losing Beth had taken the wind out of Maggie's sails. Losing Tyreese had been the final straw for the group. They were broken, and headed to a place even worse than that.

Daryl stood near the front of the door, pacing, as the wind blew. He was the one technically on watch so he had his crossbow in his hand as he paced, glancing at the barn doors every now and then.

When a gust of wind nearly blew the barn doors open, Daryl placed his crossbow down and ran to the door, attempting to keep them shut by leaning against them, his back pushed up against the doors.

When that didn't work, he turned around, trying his hardest to throw all of his weight against the wind so that the doors would remain closed.

After a few moments, Maggie rushed to Daryl's aid, and then suddenly Sasha was there.

And just like that, the rest of the group came, all of them pushing their weight against the door, attempting to keep it closed, protecting their current and only safe haven.

Together, as one.

As a team.

No one knew how long they stood there against that door – it was hard to think as the storm picked up, with the wind howling, with the whole barn threatening to cave in. But for one brief moment, with all of them together, attempting to ward off the storm from outside, Rick realized something.

He came to the conclusion that this group – _his_ group – no matter how broken, no matter how shaken, no matter how _damag_ ed… they always came together. They always defended each other. They always _helped_ each other.

These people… they were his family. He would die for them, and they would die for him. these were his people. They were his family.

When the storm finally passed, and they all caught their breath, and headed back to their respective places to _finally_ get some sleep, Rick stared at all of them with a sense of pride.

Picking up Judith and cradling her in his arms, Rick watched as everyone drifted off to sleep. All except Daryl, who had volunteered to continue keeping watch. With a soft nod in Daryl's direction, Rick made his way near Michonne and Carl.

He paused briefly as he stared at Michonne, careful to not let his mind wander too far. He wanted to protect her – _them_ – more than anything, and by any means necessary. Whatever that meant, whatever that entailed, he wanted to give it to her.

He went to sleep vowing to protect them all, no matter how often they were at odds.

There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep them alive, even when they were all at odds.

He would lead them to the promised land, despite the current storm within.


	108. Needing to Talk

A/N: Sorry I haven't posted this week. I am in the process of MOVING, so I had to pack/get things together. I'm moving from DC back to my hometown, Avondale, AZ (it's a suburb of Phoenix). So I've been finishing up my last week of work and getting things together. THEN Trump undid Obama's exec order and allowed construction to continue with the pipeline... Not to mention he wants this ridiculous wall built. It's been a LONG week since he's been in office, so I haven't really been inspired. Hopefully I'll be able to go back to posting regularly next week. =]

* * *

 _I am MORE than positive this one-shot will be written a million different ways by a million different people. Here's my take on the infamous scene were Jesus interrupts Richonne._

 **NEEDING TO TALK**

 **Rated M for language**

Rick had just gotten to the point where he was truly asleep. It was a rare thing, to be able to sleep peacefully, but after the night he'd had with Michonne, it was a surprise that it had taken him _this_ long.

She was already asleep, her hand on his chest, most of her naked body visible.

She was his best friend, and now she was so much more.

Maybe she always should have been.

Rick was pretty positive he had fallen asleep with a smile on his face, for the first time in a really, really long time. They'd gotten comfortable in Alexandria, it was possible to sleep through the night now, but could he say he was _happy_? He was still trying to get there. Being happy was _dangerous_ , because happy didn't survive for long in this world.

Take now, for instance.

He was pretty sure he'd been dreaming. Of what, he didn't remember, but he knew he was at peace.

Nightmares didn't bring peace.

So in retrospect, he had probably been dreaming, because he was happy, and he'd probably been enjoying his dream, which is why he hadn't heard Jesus the first time he'd called his name.

"Rick," Jesus had whispered. "Rick, wake up." It was instant, the two of them were up in a flash, Michonne's sword slicing through the air as she held it at attention and Rick's gun ready to fire. "We need to talk."

He had his hands up, proving he was defenseless, but Rick didn't care too much. "You so much as look at Michonne it'll be the last thing you ever see," warned Rick.

Jesus smirked. "Relax. You're much more type."

Rick ignored that, but tucked that information aside. "You're gonna back out of here, and sit on the steps while Michonne and I get dressed. You so much as stumble you're dead, no questions asked."

"Okay," Jesus immediately agreed, his hands still up.

"Out. _Now_." Jesus started walking backwards, into the hallway, softly closing the door behind him. The minute he was gone Rick lowered his gun. "Shit. _Shit_. I'm sorry."

"Who the hell is that?" Michonne tossed her sword on the bed and started rummaging around for her clothes. Rick wished he could enjoy the view but he was too busy doing the same thing.

"The guy Daryl and I brought back. I need to check on Daryl, I don't know who he got to keep watch, or if Jesus did somethin' to them…."

Michonne stopped getting dressed. "I'm sorry, his name is Jesus?"

Rick smirked. "Now you sound like Daryl." Then he frowned. "If he did anything to—"

"Before you go crazy, keep in mind he could have killed us in our sleep. He doesn't seem to be armed."

"I don't think he's a threat." He hadn't known he would speak those words, but they felt right. He buckled his jeans and kept talking. "I think he's trouble." Rick grabbed his shirt off the ground and stared at Michonne, who was still putting on her pants. "You good?"

She paused and looked at him. "Yah. I'm right behind you."

He gave her a nod and walked out the door.

He was buckling his belt when he reached the stairs, and he stopped in his tracks.

"Carl." Of _course_ Carl was out of bed. Why wouldn't he be? It was just so _typical_ for him to _not_ have a teenager who slept through the night. And then, true to her word, he heard Michonne right behind him, and she too stopped abruptly. "We, uh…."

Before he could say anything else he heard the front door open. Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, and Abraham came bursting in, their guns drawn as they started up the stairs.

"It's okay," Michonne told them, holding out her hand.

He saw it: the stares. They knew. At least Glenn and Abraham looked surprised.

Daryl? Not so much. If anyone had expected it, it'd be him.

Well shit.

This would be an interesting meeting.

"You said you wanted to talk," Rick told Jesus. "So let's talk."

He didn't meet anyone's eyes as he made his way downstairs.


	109. You Okay?

A/N: Hey guys! SO sorry for my absence these past few weeks. I actually moved from DC back home to AZ so life has been HECTIC. But hopefully I'll get back into a routine soon! Missed you all!

* * *

 _Because 'A' is one of the best Richonne episodes like EVER, and "I'm okay too" was one of the best LINES ever. This story will be told from both POVs._

 **YOU OKAY?**

 **Rated T**

Rick walked a few feet ahead of Michonne, and several feet ahead of Carl and Daryl. He could feel Michonne looking at him, but he didn't immediately turn around and meet her gaze.

He was afraid.

And slightly ashamed.

The last time he had acted like that… the last time he'd seen so much red and refused to check it, he'd ended up killing his best friend.

And his wife… the woman who had promised to love him for better or for worse, the woman who had vowed until death do them part… had turned on him.

Much like Carl was doing.

He'd disappointed a lot of people before. He couldn't bare the thought of disappointing Michonne too. Not when he owed her his life. Not when she had done more for him than he had done for her.

Still, her gaze was piercing his back, so he slowed down, just a hair, enough for her to speed up a little so that they were walking side by side. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for whatever reaction he was about to be met with.

"You okay?" he asked her, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. He finally locked eyes with her, prepared for rejection.

It seemed like time itself stopped as he waited for her to answer. What would she say? Would she lash out? Would she think it was a stupid question? Would she go off?

His train of thought was broken when Michonne responded with a soft and simple, "Yah."

Just one word, one small, one-syllable word, and Rick felt the weight of the world lift off of his shoulders. He hadn't even known how tense his body was until this very moment.

" _Yah_."

He felt himself inhale, slowly letting out the fear, the guilt, the disgust with himself. He looked around a little, noted the pounding of his heart, the crunch of the leaves under his feet. A gust of wind blew at his hair, making him think that even Mother Nature herself was comforted by Michonne's words.

"I'm okay," Rick heard himself say, and he nearly cringed. He hadn't meant to make such an admission aloud, but in essence he _was_ okay now. He had thought those words, and they had escaped out into the open.

But he _was_ okay. He was okay in more ways than one: his son was okay, Daryl was okay, and Michonne was okay. That meant he was okay. It meant he was _allowed_ to be okay. His people were good, and that meant everything, _everything_ to him.

"I know," responded Michonne, and Rick couldn't quite hide his surprise.

" _How_?" Again, his brain and his mind seemed to be on different pages. Just because he was thinking it didn't mean he have to say it. But he glanced at Michonne nonetheless, since he'd posed the question, and he truly wanted an answer.

She gave him a soft smile. "Because I'm okay too."

It was such a simple response, and it aligned with what he had been thinking when he made the statement that was he was okay. He wouldn't be okay if Michonne had been unhappy. He wouldn't be okay if she had decided that what he had done was wrong, that he had gone too far, that he should have reacted differently.

That reaction would have hurt him.

But he didn't have to worry. He was okay, because she was okay.

…

 **I'M OKAY TOO**

Michonne looked ahead at Rick, who seemed to be purposely walking fast so as to not be next to her. She stared at him, taking in how tense he was, and knew she needed to offer him something.

She knew he felt guilty for the way he had reacted with Joe and his team. It hadn't been the first time he had thought about doing something like that, but it had been his first time acting on that impulse, on that desire.

He was probably afraid of himself.

She for one, didn't feel anything except awe. It was inspiring, the way a man would go through any lengths to care for his child.

Rick could do what Mike couldn't.

What Mike wouldn't.

What Mike didn't.

Rick had proven, in that moment, that he would stop at nothing to protect those he loved, especially his offspring, by any means necessary.

In this world, Michonne refused to believe that there was absolutely, positively anything wrong with that. There wasn't, and nothing anyone ever said would make her think any differently.

Rick must have finally felt her stare, because he finally slowed down a little, allowing her to walk faster and catch up with him so that they could walk together side by side. She stared at him out of the corner of her eye, knowing him, anticipating that he needed to search for whatever questions he had.

"You okay?" The question was timid, almost hesitant, like he either didn't want to ask it, or he was afraid of the answer. Most likely it was a mixture of both. It surprised her, a little. Did he really think that she wouldn't understand why he did what he did?

Did he really not know, even after all this time, after helping him find Glenn and Maggie, after searching for the Governor, after killing the Governor, after finding them, that she had his back? That she was with him?

That she would _always_ be with him?

"Yah," Michonne told Rick. She _was_ okay.

She noted the way his entire body seemed to relax after her admission: his should dropped a little, and he let out a low, slow breath, as if the weight of the world had just been lifted from his shoulders.

Did her opinion really mean that much to him?

She wanted to ask him how and why he could ever think otherwise. Did he think she would chastise him? That she would be upset?

Then again, it's not like he knew. He had no clue that she'd loved a man who ended up being a coward. He would never suspect that Mike was the complete and polar opposite of Rick. Not to mention, Michonne's reaction – or lack thereof – was actually skewed because of what had happened with Mike and Andre. Perhaps if Andre had been alive, or if she had never had a son, she _would_ be mortified at Rick's behavior.

But she _had_ had a son, and he had been killed, and once upon a time she had been in love with a man who was too weak to protect their son, and himself.

She probably would have said something else, something along the lines of, "I'm not afraid of you or what you did. You did what you had to." Because he _had_. Those words were on the tip of her tongue, but then Rick spoke again.

"I'm okay."

Michonne nearly laughed. Nodding, she stared at him. "I know." It had taken him a few moments to accept it, but he had, and she knew if he hadn't now, in this moment, that eventually he would have come to grips with it.

She knew he was okay.

 _They_ were okay.

"How?" Rick asked her, surprise evident in his voice.

How did she know that he was okay? Because Carl was safe. Daryl was safe. _She_ was safe. And, perhaps more importantly than he even realized, her opinion mattered to him, and she was okay with what he had done.

She gave him an even softer smile than before. "Because I'm okay, too." She hoped he understood the message: she could not and would not judge Rick for what he had done to Joe in order to protect Carl.

He stared at her for a few seconds, and she saw the understanding in his eyes. He nodded at her, a gentle smile on his own face, and together they kept walking towards Terminus.


	110. Love All Over Me

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day my love. With everything going on in the world (mainly the [un]united State), let's remember to love each other. And also, remember the value of loving YOURSELF. Self-love is critical in being able to love others properly. I'll end by saying the greatest love of all was Jesus dying on that cross. Single or not, (I am) love is all around us, always.

Thought this would be the PERFECT Vday story. YAY for our Ship, yall.

* * *

 _Because I am Richonne trash, and proud. Title from my FAVORITE Monica song of the same name. I will say this every time, but this is NOT a song fic, it's just inspiration._

 _Consider this the same Universe as my one-shot "A New Beginning" (chapter 14), a "Being a Big Sister (chapter 20), and "With this Ring" (chapter )._

 _[Verse 1]_

 _Must not have been paying attention_

 _I stepped right on it didn't even notice how deep I was_

 _I went from the ground to the top of the cloud_

 _And now as I look down I see where I fell into your arms_

 _[Chorus]_

 _Now I got love all over me_

 _Baby you touched every part of me_

 _Oh_

 _I got love all over me_

 _And I don't want to get it off_

 _I'm completely covered up in your love_

 **LOVE ALL OVER ME**

 **Rated K**

She stared ahead at him, a small smile gracing her lips, her dark brown eyes locking with his bright blue ones.

She'd never seen him look happier.

She was worried, for a long time, that she wouldn't see him this happy again. That that brilliant smile of his, that only popped out on the rarest of occasions, would never grace his lips.

Michonne felt relieved to be wrong.

She had been worried for him. There were prayers, tears, pain, sadness…. But they had gotten through it. They had gotten through the worst of it. She had always known that they would be able to overcome it – it's what they did best – but she had been worried it would take a lot longer.

Things were settling down again.

He'd forgiven himself.

And with forgiveness came healing.

She knew that better than anyone.

Things were so different now. She started off so angry, so closed off, so hurt about the way things ended…. Losing Mike and Andre had nearly taken everything out of her.

But he brought her back.

She had had to do the same thing for him, but it was well worth it.

Sometimes their journey together made her laugh. She'd be lying in bed next to him, and he'd be sound asleep, and she'd just look at him and remember the broken man she had met at the prison. He'd been angry, she'd been angry, and naturally they had clashed.

But they hadn't burned.

Not in the least.

They had taken flight, burying the anger in a sea of ashes that allowed them to be reborn, like a Phoenix. They soared through the air, together.

They were better that way.

Half the time she couldn't remember when the hell it happened. She could remember the _how_ , plain as day – a simple pack of mints and a hand hold – and the rest was history. But _when_? The exact moment? That was still kind of hazy.

She couldn't have been paying attention.

One day she loved him, the next she was in love with him.

And she was in deep by the time she stepped in, so deep that she couldn't get out, that she didn't _want_ to get out.

Love… his love, her love, their love, was everywhere.

Particularly all over her.

It ran through her veins, from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.

She'd never known a love like this, had never knew what it could do to and for her. It changed her, healed her, amused her.

Stabled her.

That was the whole point of this. To have some stability in an unstable world. To have something tangible, some proof that there was something – some _one_ — absolutely worth fighting for.

He was living, breathing proof that there was a reason for staying alive in this world, no matter how hard and difficult it was sometimes.

He made it worth it.

That's what love did. That's what love was.

What it was always supposed to be.

Worth it….

She'd never been much of a crier. Not growing up, not as an adult, and the apocalypse wouldn't change that. But she could feel the tears stinging in her eyes as she stared at him.

She had never known it was possible to love someone so much.

She thought she had known love before, but now she knew. She knew better, so she wanted better, and she was getting better.

She was in love with Rick Grimes.

She finally approached him, standing only a few feet away. She had a million things she wanted to say to him, and she would say them all, she knew. The words would come. They always did.

He stared at her, his eyes already undressing her, as they always did, as they always would.

He didn't look or seem nervous, and she wasn't nervous either.

They were always supposed to be here together, in this moment. It was fate, their destiny.

"Who gives this woman away?" The question made Michonne finally take her eyes off of Rick and focus on Father Gabriel, who'd been talking for a little while now.

"I do." Michonne turned and looked at Carl, who was taller than she was now. He was so handsome in his tuxedo, just like his father, his eyes just as shockingly blue. "A long time ago," Carl said softly, "a little boy told his father that he _thought_ you were one of us. I'm glad today that I _know_ you are."

Michonne felt a tear fall as she smiled at Carl. He gently handed her off to Rick, and she took her soon-to-be husband's outstretched hand.

She gave a quick glance to Sasha and Maggie, standing as her Bridesmaids, and then shot Daryl and Abraham a look. Both of Rick's groomsmen had smirks on their faces. Judith was standing next to Rick, an empty flower basket in her hand, Hershel Jr. next to her, a pillow in his arms, the ring Rick had created on top of it.

The day was perfect, as were the people surrounding her.

"You look beautiful," Rick whispered, and now there were unshed tears welled in his own eyes.

Michonne looked down at her ivory colored dress. One of the residents from the Kingdom had given it to her: it was a floor-length gown with an attached cape. She had her 'locks in a high bun with a tiara.

"I feel beautiful," responded Michonne as she stood next to Rick and faced Father Gabriel.

That was one of the many perks of being covered up by love.

* * *

A/N: The dress Michonne wore is Solange's wedding dress, because Danai would SLAY in something like that in real life. I had the dress come from the Kingdom because in my heart and soul the Kingdom is the HBCU of TWD universe LMAO.

This one-shot came from the AMAZING Richonne-centric site by the name of Tell it to the Dead. TiTTD is SUCH an uplifting site for all those who obsess over Michonne. Feel free to check them out if you ever have the time. You can look me up under idcabtthisish =]


	111. Figuring it Out

A/N: Yall PLEASE be patient with me! I have not given up on this story, I have plenty of prompts and plenty more to post. Life is just crazy yall. Forreal.

Thanks to everyone for all the love and reviews. I'll try to get back into a schedule as soon as possible.

* * *

 _Because, once again, I'm obsessed with the fact that Rick took off his wedding ring._

 **FIGURING IT OUT**

 **Rated K**

Michonne walked to Rick's room, her bathrobe on, dreaming of climbing into bed and getting a good night's sleep. She stood at the open door, intent on knocking, but instead she just stared. He was on his bed, one leg dangling on the floor, the other spread across the bed. His back was against his headboard, though he was slouched down against a pillow.

He was playing with his wedding ring.

Michonne watched him for several moments, but he never said anything to her. Eventually she cleared her throat and he finally glanced at her, his eyes registering surprise at seeing her there.

"Hey, can I borrow your toothpaste?" Michonne asked softly.

He barely glanced at her before his eyes were back on his ring. "Yah." His voice wasn't cold, per say, but it still had her frowning. He wasn't looking at her, and his tone was somewhat dismissive. "It's in the bathroom," he told her, still not looking at her.

She walked to the bathroom without another word, grabbing the tube of toothpaste and walking out of the bathroom. She barely gave Rick another glance before she was out of his room and back in her own, heading towards her bathroom.

She brushed her teeth, taking special care to keep her mind blank. She finished brushing her teeth, rinsing out her mouth with mouthwash, and then stared at herself in the mirror.

Her 'locks needed a touch up.

It was such a stupid thing to think, but it was true. The last time she'd gotten them done had been a month before the fall. Before then she had never allowed her 'locs to really 'loc. She liked the freedom of being able to change the design or the color every now and then.

Oh well. She didn't really have time to think about things like hair care now.

There were more pressing matters to deal with.

She made her way back to Rick's room, finding him in the exact same spot, his thumb forcing his silver wedding ring to twirl on his fingers. He seemed… lost. Or confused. His brow was scrunched up, there was a dark frown on his face, and he seemed completely oblivious to her presence.

It was so unlike him.

She returned the toothpaste to his bathroom, determined not to say anything, and headed back towards the door so she could finally go to bed.

Yet her mouth, apparently, had other ideas.

"You okay?" she blurted out before she could help it, turning around to get a good look at him.

She froze, realizing that it was none of her business. Yes, he was absolutely her best friend, and no, there wasn't anybody on this planet that she could trust more than Rick Grimes, but whatever he was going through… whatever he was trying to figure out was _personal_.

Rick stared at her for a few seconds, ocean blue eyes against dark brown eyes that were almost black. He kept silent for so long, still playing with his ring, that Michonne thought that he might not respond.

He was completely closed off. It had been _months_ since she had had the inability to read him. She didn't know when it had happened: when she found them in that house? When they came across Joe? When they broke out of Terminus? She didn't know. She just knew one day, she started knowing exactly what it was he was thinking, and he could do the same for her.

They normally always wanted the same thing, and when he couldn't see reason, she was that voice of reason.

But now? Now he was shut off, his face closed, his eyes unreadable, as if he were performing Occlumency against her.

"I'm sorry," Michonne finally stated. "I didn't mean to pry."

Rick shook his head. "I'm thinkin' about Lori," admitted Rick.

That much she had figured out.

"Do you still see her?" Michonne's voice was soft, non-judgmental.

"No," answered Rick. "I haven't seen her since we left the prison. We were too busy. There was too much goin' on. I was afraid when got here…." His voice trailed off and his eyes lost focus for a few seconds and Michonne allowed him his moment.

"Do you want to see her?"

Rick didn't immediately answer that, and in the end, he didn't. "For the first time, Lori hasn't crossed my mind. Not once. In fact… I don't remember the last time I thought about her. Not even when I look at Carl or Judith."

"You thinking about Jessie instead?"

His brow furrowed. "No. Not in the least. Never, actually." The indifference in his voice didn't go unnoticed to Michonne.

The question of who he was thinking about instead was one she refused to ask aloud.

"It's okay, Rick," was all she said instead. "It's okay to let her go."

He stared at her again, until she gave him a soft smile and started to walk out.

"Do you still talk to Mike?" She saw the way he cringed out of the corner of her eye and knew the question was as much of an accident as her question had been.

She faced him full on. "No." Her answer was firm, and truthful.

"When was the last time?"

She gave him a genuine smile. "The day I found you and Carl in that house."

He stared at her for the longest time yet, his eyes searching hers until he gave her a soft nod.

She walked out of Rick's room, her heart hammering.

She pretended not to notice the ring was off of his finger the next morning.


	112. Night Out

Something light and airy =]

* * *

 **A NIGHT OUT**

 **Rated K**

He felt the tap on his shoulder and looked up in surprise when his eyes locked with a pair of dark brown eyes. He froze for a second, and his eyes followed hers as she lowered herself so that that they were eye level. She leaned in, and he could smell both the alcohol on her breath and the perfume on her body.

"Hey! So you gonna ask my friend to dance, or what?" asked the woman.

Rick blinked at her. " _What_?" he asked.

She stared at him, a knowing smile on her face. "You've been eyeing her all night, and she's been eyeing you. Just ask her already."

"I don't dance," mumbled Rick after a few stunned moment of silence. He brought his nearly empty glass to his lips and took another sip.

She rolled her eyes. "You don't strike me as a coward. We've got about another hour left before we call it a night. Make it count, yah?" She flashed him another brilliant smile – and she was quite a pretty woman, he noted: curly hair that was placed in a high bun, a few loose ringlets falling down her face; a bright pink lipstick that brought out her shapely lips, and gold undertones that bought out her natural features.

But she didn't hold a candle to the woman she was with.

Dark brown skin. Long, curly 'locs. Thick, full lips. A smile that could make the sun look dim. Toned arms. _Great_ legs. Every curve was shown off due to the cobalt blue dress she was wearing. It looked amazing on her skin tone. The gold accessories highlighted the bronze of her skin and some of the jewelry she wore (some gold, chained head wrap around her forehead, and large, gold earrings) made her look like a goddess.

She was _stunning_.

He watched as the woman who approached him walked away. Her friend had disappeared – probably to dance with somebody else, she'd been a hot commodity all night – not that Rick had been watching.

He wouldn't have minded taking the woman's advice. He'd love to ask that mystery woman to dance. But he'd been honest when he said he couldn't dance. The last time he had danced was at his wedding… and that was fifteen years and one divorce ago.

That's what had him in a bar, in Atlanta, nursing dark liquor on a Friday night. He was celebrating one year of officially being divorced.

And toasting to the fact that the child his ex-wife was pregnant with _wasn't_ his.

Even though she _felt_ like his.

As those thoughts started creeping in, Rick shot back the rest of his drink, slammed it down on the table, and got up. He made his way out of the club.

It was time to go.

…

"Hey!" Sasha said to the bartender. "Can we close our tab?"

"You don't have one," replied the girl behind the bar. "The gentleman over there's been paying for your drinks all night." Sasha and Michonne turned to where the bartender was pointing, only to find an empty table and a single glass. "Well… he _was_ right there."

Sasha turned towards Michonne, a grin on her face, but her best friend had already disappeared.

 _Go get your man, Girl_ , thought Sasha.

…

"Hey!" Rick heard the call, but didn't think it was for him, so he kept walking. When another " _Hey_!" rang out, this time closer, Rick glanced behind him.

He stopped when he noticed the woman from the bar. He felt his throat constrict as he realized she was calling for him. He watched her as she approached him, slightly mesmerized by her walk.

"What kind of man buys a woman a drink all night, and then leaves before she can tell him thank you?"

Rick was momentarily too stunned to speak. She had such a soft voice, and her gaze was both fierce and gentle.

He didn't understand her.

"I apologize, Ma'am," he told her honestly. Her eyebrows shot up, and he realized he probably sounded foreign to her. King's County wasn't all that far from Atlanta, but it was still a small, country town in comparison to the big city. "Your friend – what was her name?"

"Sasha."

"Sasha told me to ask you to dance, but… I don't dance."

"You could have just come over and asked me for my name."

Rick sighed, sticking his hands in his pocket. "Look, I'm no good at this kinda thing. I haven't had to do this since I was a freshman in high school."

"Why don't we start with a name?"

He stared at her for a few seconds. "Rick."

"Michonne," the woman responded.

"Michonne…." Rick liked the way her name tasted off of his tongue.

"You could have known that earlier if you'd asked me to dance."

"If I had done that I'd have made a complete fool of myself. I don't dance." He paused as he stared at Michonne. "But I do eat."

"So do I," said Michonne with a small smile.

"Maybe we can get somethin' to eat together sometime."

"For someone who's out of practice, that sure was smooth," Michonne said.

Rick grinned. "Does that mean that's a yes?"

Returning his smile, Michonne spoke. "I'm pretty sure we can work something out."


	113. Not so Serendipity

_I have never, ever, EVER done the same prompt twice, but this prompt inspired two stories. That's never happened before. Normally if I have a few ideas for a prompt I choose one. I couldn't do that this time. The stories will be VASTLY different, even though the prompt is the same. Be warned: lots of smut lol._

 _Prompt—"_ _AU Request: Michonne works at the police academy by day and attends law school at night. Rick is a police academy trainee and single dad. By chance they cross paths at the library on a lazy Saturday. What happens between those stacks?" –RBGzMom_

 **NOT SO SERENDIPITY**

 **Rated M for heavy smut**

Michonne sighed and closed her eyes, rubbing her temples. She was exhausted, but still had several more hours of studying to do. She hadn't been here that long – a couple of hours at most. What she needed, she realized, was a pick me up. Maybe a nice cup of tea or something.

Sighing she stood up, straightening her black mini skirt and her snug white v-neck shirt, and gathered all the law school books sprawled across the table, placing them all underneath her arm and heading to the shelf where she got them from. She reluctantly put the books back one by one, chastising herself slightly. She was never going to join a law firm like this. She only had one month left until she took the bar exam, and here she was, already needing a break after only two hours.

She needed to do better.

She _had_ to do better.

She would just run across the street to the little sandwich shop that had just opened up, grab a bite to eat, and come right back. Experts said that she needed a break anyway, so _technically_ what she was doing wasn't wrong.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the stranger approach. Suddenly the remaining books that were in her arms were no longer there; Michonne looked up and found herself staring into a startling pair of deep blue eyes. He flashed her a small grin and started putting her books away.

"I didn't ask for your help," Michonne told him.

"Yah, well, you got it," responded the man, his Southern drawl thick.

Michonne eyed him, taking in his familiar uniform. Of course. He worked at the same police academy she worked for, though clearly he was a seasoned cop. He was probably as old as she was, which put him in his mid-thirties. His hair was starting to grey and there were flecks of grey in his beard. He looked _good_.

"You wanna tell me your name?" he asked her, but she just continued to stare at him. He turned and faced her, his eyebrows raised. "You wanna tell me your name?" he repeated, but again she kept silent. When it was clear she wouldn't respond he continued. "I'm Rick." He gave her a nod and then continued to put up her books. She watched him in quiet fascination. When he was finished he turned and faced her. "Wanna get outta here?"

Michonne arched an eyebrow. "I don't even know you."

"I've given you ample opportunity to get to know me. I've asked you your name twice."

She hesitated for a few more seconds, and then stated, "Michonne."

He grinned at her and it had Michonne's stomach swooping. "That's some name," Rick told her. She remained quiet. "I bet you're some woman." He looked her over with those blue eyes, lingering at her breasts.

Michonne flashed him a flirtatious smile. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I very much would, yah." He stepped closer to her and Michonne's breath caught in her throat as his scent filled her nostrils. It was intoxicating. He smelled of masculinity, Irish Spring, and whatever cologne he used.

She felt the desire between her legs and it shocked her.

Who the hell did this man think he was, to come around her unannounced like this and making her want him?

If he recognized that she was uncomfortable, he didn't let it show. In fact, he stepped even closer to her, reaching out and grabbing one of her locs. It made her glance up at him, her eyes flickering to his dark brown locs in their effortless curl.

"You are unnaturally beautiful," he told her, his voice deep. "You certainly make me wanna do some… thangs." She blinked at his boldness but was unable to say anything.

His hands slid down from her hair to her waist, making her breath catch in her throat. He leaned in close to her, making her unable to breathe all together.

"What if I told you," whispered Rick, his breath warm against her ear and nearly causing her to shiver, "that I wanted you right here, right now.?"

"I'd tell you there was no way in hell we'd have sex in this library." She was pleased to hear that her voice was firm, even if her legs were jelly, because she very much wanted to do what she claimed she would not.

He laughed softly and repositioned himself so that he was standing in front of her, one arm above her head and resting against a shelf, the other gently gripping her hips. "Wanna bet?"

His lips captured hers before she knew what was happening, and instead of pushing him away, she immediately responded, her body pushing itself into him. She heard his breath quicken and then he moaned into her mouth, his hands reaching up and gripping her breasts. This time it was her turn to gasp, and then he forced her tongue into her mouth.

He tasted sweet, almost minty, like he brushed with spearmint toothpaste, and for some reason it tugged at her heartstrings. Unable to help herself she hooked one leg around his waist and pulled him even closer to her.

After a few seconds he chuckled deep in his throat and pulled away from her. "I thought we weren't gonna have sex in the library," he teased.

Michonne blinked rapidly as she realized she had very nearly gone back on her word. Trying to regain some self-control she removed her leg and cleared her throat. "We aren't."

"Doesn't quite seem that way to me," drawled Rick, and one of his hands, rough and calloused, but soft and gentle to the touch, pulled her shirt up. He palmed her stomach and then gripped her breast through her bra. She whimpered and her knees nearly gave out, yet his arms were right there. They fit snuggly around her waist as he gripped her, helping her keep her balance, but continued his research as he explored her left breast.

"Rick," Michonne whispered, but before she could say anything else his lips captured hers and suddenly her brain was mush and her body was responding all over again. Suddenly Rick pressed his body against hers and he forced his knee in between her thighs. Michonne gasped loudly and Rick removed his mouth, looking around. "You can't be that loud," he said with a grin.

"Shut up," snapped Michonne, and then her lips were on his again. He eagerly responded, both of his hands underneath her shirt and gripping her breasts. When he wanted more of her to taste he removed his hands and forced her shirt down in the front, dipping his head and sucking on one exposed breast while fondling the other.

After several moments Michonne pushed Rick's head down and he took that as his cue. Getting on his knees he placed his head underneath her skirt. Pushing aside her thong he stuck his tongue deep inside of her. Michonne gripped the shelf, throwing back her head and bit her lip, hard, to force herself not scream. He flicked his tongue and she let out a startled cry and came.

"Good thing you wore this skirt," Rick grunted as he stood up and started fiddling with his belt. "It makes for much easier access." He was inside of her before she could blink, but she was ready. _God_ was she ready. He covered her mouth with his hand, his strokes deep, sure, and quick, and buried his face in her neck as the pleasure took over.

She let go of the shelf and gripped Rick's waist, convinced that she'd be bruised later since his thrusts were forcing parts of her body to hit the shelf. If they weren't careful they'd knock all the books over, and then they'd surely be caught – if her whimpers, groans, grunts, and curses didn't get them caught first.

She wondered – briefly – how much trouble Rick would get in figuring he was already a cop. Would he have to arrest himself?

The thought was gone before she could dwell on it as she came again. Rick waited until the orgasm passed before removing his hand and replacing his palm with his lips. He sucked on her bottom lip for several seconds, until another orgasm stared to build. Against her will she threw her head back and moaned out his name.

" _Fuck_ 'Chonne," grunted Rick. He placed his lips on hers again until their heads were swimming and they were both breathing hard as they broke away. He could feel his own orgasm coming, and sped up.

Michonne moaned low, but loudly, sliding her arms around Rick's neck and pulling him closer, his face buried in her breasts. She gripped his curls, threw her head back, and clenched around him. With a string of curses leaving both of their lips they released together, both of them pumping furiously so that every drop was given and received.

They stood there, breathing hard, for several moments, until Rick finally pulled away. Michonne felt her face flood with warmth as she realized what she had done.

"Rick Grimes, you will be on the couch for a _year_ for pulling this stunt," she whispered fiercely.

He flashed her a grin, his eyes still dark from his orgasm. "Blame yourself. You're the one who ran out the house in that short skirt and that tight shirt. Then you sent me that picture…."

"Yes," hissed Michonne, straightening her skirt, "with a note that said I couldn't wait to get home to you tonight. I said _nothing_ about meeting me at the library and fucking my brains out on your lunch break."

Rick fastened his belt. "I didn't hear you complaining two seconds ago."

"You cheated. First you wore my favorite cologne, then you actually put on your _uniform_. You _know_ what that uniform does to me."

"It's not my fault I have to wear this."

Michonne glared at him. "You haven't had to wear your uniform since you were promoted two years ago."

"But today we had that ceremony, remember?" Rick reached towards her and fixed a few of her locs. "This is really all your fault. You left before I was even all the way awake yet. Usually we shower together."

"I know, but with the exam being so close I wanted an early start." She tucked her shirt in, wishing she could see herself. "You could have waited."

"Believe it or not, I didn't come here to seduce you. But when I saw you up close and personal in that skirt, I had to have you. Be happy I didn't bend you over."

"We're in a _library_."

"And now we can check that off our bucket list."

"It was never on my bucket list," snapped Michonne, walking away from him. He followed behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and placing gentle kisses along her neck.

"Does that mean you wouldn't do it again?" His hands found their way to her breasts and her nipples instantly got hard. "Seems like you're already aroused."

"Fuck you, Grimes."

Rick laughed good-naturedly. "It's a little late for that, but I can go again if you're up to it." At those words he gently pushed her until she reached the table, bent her over, and pushed himself against her. "I'm already semi-hard." And his voice was already starting to get husky again.

Michonne's eyes fluttered closed, briefly, before she turned around so that she was facing him. They were close – her breasts were nearly pressed against his chest – and once again his scent overwhelmed her. She slid her hands into his pants, forcing Rick to curse, and she started stroking him, making sure her nails scraped his shaft a few times. He cursed, his head falling back, and she gripped him when he became fully hard.

"Michonne," warned Rick. "If you don't stop bein' a tease…."

She sighed. "Come on. Why don't you call in for a few hours and I'll come back later? I'm not gonna be able to concentrate anyway."

"I'm not gonna be able to walk to the car like _this_ ," he told her.

She glanced around. The library was deserted, but they were still out in the open. Pulling him by his tie she forced him into a secluded corner. She bent down and unzipped his pants, Rick's head already falling back before her luscious lips even wrapped around him. He said several four letter words as she took him in. When he was sure he would cum he forced her head back, pulled her up, and bent her over, determined to fuck her out of her shirt. He lifted her skirt and buried himself into her. She whined, arching her back, and gripped the shelf of books. She met his thrusts, looking back at him, and he reached around and gripped her breasts, squeezing them as they spilled out of her shirt.

They didn't last long, and it was a relief that they didn't because Michonne didn't seem to remember that they were in a library, and she came just as loudly as she would at home. Rick was too involved in his own pleasure to care, and therefore, let her moan aloud and just prayed that no one would come and investigate. Throwing his head back he emptied himself into her, and gasping for air, collapsed against her back.

"Home," panted Michonne. " _Now_."

He wasn't about to argue with her.

* * *

A/N: I can def see Richonne having a quickie in the library, but not to THIS extent lol. It was just a fun write. Forgive me if they seem OOC.


	114. A Moment with Morgan

_Missing scene from TFs trip to the Kingdom._

 **A MOMENT WITH MORGAN**

 **Rated K**

Ezekiel led them down the hall, showing them the block of rooms he had reserved for them. Rick nodded at some of the passerby's, nodding politely at a black woman wearing a hijab as she scurried by. He noticed the way she eyed Shiva wearily and felt himself grin despite the circumstances.

He still had a reservation or two about Shiva as well.

And this _King_ Ezekiel.

"You may spread yourselves accordingly," Ezekiel stated to the small group, his voice echoing in the now deserted hallway. "However you decide to sleep is fine. Except for you two." He eyed Michonne and Rick. "Morgan here tells me you are coupled."

He paused as if he expected an answer.

Rick shifted, slightly annoyed. "Yah," he responded, somewhat impatiently.

Ezekiel nodded once. "There is a room a few doors down from my own. It has an en suite bathroom. I thought that may be useful to you."

Rick glanced at Michonne and then gave a curt not to Ezekiel.

"Wait, where are you takin' em?" asked Daryl.

Morgan shifted. He gave a swift look to Daryl before turning to Rick. "You can trust him. And if you can't… trust me." The words were spoken softly, but there seemed to be a challenge there. Rick and Morgan stared at each other for several seconds, neither of them saying a word, until Rick nodded. Turning and facing the group he spoke.

"You all try and get a goodnight's sleep. We'll leave at sunrise," Rick stated, eyeing Daryl and Carl. Carl nodded and Daryl just stared moodily.

"Please, do not be in such a rush," said King Ezekiel. "We will serve you breakfast if it so pleases you."

Rick refrained from rolling his eyes. He already knew that Ezekiel wouldn't be joining the fight – at least not now. Still, it would be nice to have a good night's sleep, and breakfast didn't sound half bad, especially if it was anything like the dinner they had just been served.

"We'll do breakfast," Rick told the king and his group.

Ezekiel smiled. "Good. That pleases me. If any of you need anything, please do not hesitate to let Jerry know. His room is the third room on the left. Now, if you two will follow me."

Rick met Michonne's stare and the two of them followed behind Ezekiel. It didn't take long for them to reach the room Ezekiel had for them. He opened their door for them and motioned for them to step inside.

"I trust this will do for you two?" asked Ezekiel.

"There's a bed and running water. It's perfect," Michonne stated.

Ezekiel's lips upturned in a small smile. "A maiden with a sense of humor. It has been quite some time since I've experienced that. Please, if you need anything, anything at all, I implore you to seek my company immediately. I am but one door down, to the right."

"Thank you," Rick told him sincerely.

Ezekiel looked Rick over, taking a deep breath. "Don't thank me just yet." He bid them goodnight, turning to Morgan, who was waiting by the door. "I trust you will find me after Rick tries to persuade you to fight. Come see me, and we shall discuss the best option… for the _Kingdom_." Rick would have understood what Ezekiel meant even if the man with dreads hadn't gave him a pointed look. Morgan nodded and waited until Ezekiel was out of sight.

"I really am sorry about your friends," said Morgan softly. "I wish… I wish things had ended differently."

Rick didn't respond, and Morgan didn't seem to expect him to.

"I won't change my mind," Morgan admitted. "And I won't go in there and try and convince Ezekiel to fight."

"I know," was all Rick could say.

"But I can tell you that you're safe here, and Daryl will be safe here. The Saviors have never stepped foot inside the Kingdom. If Ezekiel has offered Daryl asylum… he won't go back on his word."

"What happens when the Saviors go back on their word?" asked Rick.

"I'm here to ensure that doesn't happen."

"But _if_?"

Morgan sighed, gripping his stick. "There are a lot of capable fighters here," he admitted quietly. "People who will want to defend their home."

"Then I wanna talk to _them_."

"They are at _peace_. And I won't take that away from them. No one in the Kingdom knows about the Saviors. Ezekiel has worked really hard to keep it that way. I won't betray that trust." Rick sighed, taking a glance at Michonne, but she only stared at Morgan.

"Things _will_ go bad, Morgan," Michonne stated.

He glanced at her, a soft smile on his face. "Oh, I know. They always do. But I'll try with everything that's in me to have it happen later, rather than sooner. I'm not itchin' for a war. I told you that back in King's County. I didn't want a part of it then, I don't want a part of it now. _You_ told me to leave Alexandria if I didn't want to kill. I found a community that agrees with me."

Rick shifted and stared at Morgan for a few moments. "You're good here?"

"As good as I'm gonna be," admitted Morgan. "The King values my input. There's a boy here who wants me to teach him Aikido. And most importantly… above all else… I get to eat my own peanut butter bars."

Michonne gaped at Morgan, and then slowly turned towards Rick.

"You _told_ on me?" Michonne asked.

Rick backed away from her. "Now wait," started Rick, holding his hands up. "At the time, I didn't think I'd ever see Morgan again. It was—it was a way to say goodbye without havin' to actually utter the words."

"You two have a good night," Morgan laughed. "I'll see you two in the mornin'."

"You might only see one of us," said Michonne, zoning in on Rick.

"Morgan, help me. Please don't leave me alone."

Rick could hear Morgan laughing as he shut the door.

* * *

A/N: This was NOT what this story was supposed to be, but after 7x13, I realized I really wanted a Morgan story. I think he is so misunderstood, and I feel so badly for him smh. But honestly, this story had a different title and everything lol. Guess I'll try again haha.


	115. From I to We

**FROM I TO WE**

 **Rated K**

She stared at herself in the mirror, feeling more beautiful than ever. She looked herself over again, but found nothing wrong.

She was perfect.

Today was perfect.

The sky was a robin-egg blue. The soft April breeze was gentle on her skin. The cherry blossoms perfumed the air. The lake's waves splashed quietly. The birds chirped softly.

In essence, it was perfect.

As was she.

The dress was stunning with its metallic gold color. The sweetheart neckline had colored beaded jewels, and there was a bowknot that accented her slim waist. It was a long mermaid shape and highlighted every curve she had. The back of the dress was the shape of a U, but most of her back up to her neck, with the same colored beaded jewels placed strategically along the shape of the back of her dress.

The tiara atop her head, tucked neatly inside of her loc'd up do, shined brightly against the mirror. She reached up, straightening it just a little so that it was symmetrical.

"You ready?" Michonne glanced up and met Sasha's eyes in the mirror. Her best friend looked stunning in her white dress, a gold chained headband around her forehead to signify that she was the Maid of Honor.

"Yes," Michonne smiled. With one last look at herself she deemed herself ready. "Let's go become Mrs. Rick Grimes."

Turning around she made her way towards Sasha, who handed Michonne her bouquet. Together they walked towards Michonne's bridesmaids: Maggie, Andrea, and Danai. Sasha got in line, taking her place in front of the rest of them.

With class and grace, Michonne stood in back of Danai, squared her shoulders, and waited for the music to start so she could marry the love of her life.

…

Rick looked around, taking in all the details.

Everything was perfect.

It wasn't like his first wedding. His first marriage had been a quiet ceremony, in front of the judge, with just a few close friends and family. It was no more than ten of them total, including her side.

This year there were about one hundred and fifty guests, and that was them being narrowed down. That was with making several lists, with the maximum of people starting at two hundred and seventy-five, and somehow getting rid of nearly half of those people.

Everyone looked exceptional, including him.

He felt like he'd never looked better, despite the fact that this was the oldest he'd ever been. His hair, which used to be jet-black, was now flaked with silver, as was his beard; he'd started gaining weight, but he'd turned into muscle, making him fit; his face was fuller, his chest broader, and it made his white tuxedo look perfect against his body.

The gold floral designed jacket popped against the blue of his eyes.

He stared at his best men, feeling particularly fond of all of them: Daryl, Morgan, and Jesus, men who had gone to hell and back for and with him. They had earned their right to be up here as his groomsmen.

Carl shifted, and Rick looked at him.

"You ready for this?" asked Carl, his eyes searching his father's.

Rick looked at his boy, his son of fifteen years old, looking more handsome than ever in his all white tuxedo, save for his matching white and gold vest that was identical to Rick's jacket.

The Best Man _had_ to stand out.

"I've been ready," Rick admitted.

Carl nodded. "Cool."

The music started at that moment and Rick straightened himself up. He looked towards the aisle.

Sasha came first, walking down the aisle in her stunning white dress and gold head chain. Maggie was next, her long hair pulled back, her dress fitting her perfectly. Danai was last, looking almost as good as her sister, the white clashing beautifully against her dark skin.

Finally, after what felt like a million years, Michonne rounded the corner. Rick's breath caught in his throat as he stared at her in her gorgeous gold dress, looking like a goddess straight from the sun.

Andre looked especially handsome in his white tuxedo jacket and black and gold pants as he walked down the aisle with his mother.

Rick both felt and heard the pounding of his heart as Michonne stepped closer to him. He knew everyone in the crowd was just as in awe of her as he was. He could hear the sighs, but they were faint.

He didn't even hear Father Gabriel when he asked who was giving this woman away. One second Michonne was next to Andre, and then he was leading her to Rick.

It had never been easier to take a woman's hand.

Andre took his place next to Carl, and the crowd waited expectantly.

The best moment of the entire wedding?

When Father Gabriel said that Rick could finally kiss his bride.

There would be no more I's. Just them's, and us's. Just _we_.

Until death do _them_ part.


	116. Similiarities

A/N: YOU ALL I AM SOOOOOOO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN A WHILE! LIFE IS SOOOO HECTIC! I PROMISE TO TRY AND DO BETTER. I know the SF has ended since we've last talked... SPOILERS, SKIP DOWN TO BELOW IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT YET). I follow spoilers, so I knew about Sasha, but the devastation is STILL very much real. I LOVE Sonequa, I had the pleasure of meeting her at WSC ATL last year, and I'm gonna miss her as Sasha.

Also, today is Good Friday. I am Christian, I do observe Resurrection Sunday, it is one the most sacred holidays to me. I have today off, so I was actually able to update! I miss you all, I'll be posting regularly as soon as I can, I promise.

* * *

 _Michonne admires Zariah._

 _Wee bit of angst_.

 **SIMILARITIES**

 **Rated T**

The first time it happened Michonne froze. For one brief, heart-stopping moment, the world stopped.

Not just stopped.

It shattered.

It happened so quickly that she was sure no one saw her, yet Rick asked her about it, that very night.

" _You wanna tell me what happened earlier_?" Rick had asked as they undressed.

Michonne froze, and didn't immediately look at him. When she did, his eyes were piercing hers.

" _No_ ," was all she said, and she turned around, away from those eyes that could read her like a book.

Somehow she knew telling Rick, "Zariah has Andre's smile," would break her to pieces.

…

The first time Zariah laughed Michonne's heart stopped.

It literally stopped beating for a second.

She dropped the glass in her hand and it shattered into a million pieces once it hit the tile floor.

Carl, visiting from the Hilltop, stood up, Judith in his arms.

Rick was next to her in a second, Zariah in his arms, having just tossed her in the air.

Michonne could _see_ him, could feel the way he was gently shaking her, but when she finally found the courage to breathe again, all she could do was turn on her heels and climb the stairs to their bedroom.

When Rick found her a little while later Michonne was at the window, staring out but not really seeing anything. Rick didn't say a word; he just stood next to her and they stood there in silence.

"She has Andre's laugh," Michonne finally admitted quietly. "And his smile. But that laugh…." She inhaled sharply and then let out a shaky breath. "I never thought I'd hear that laugh again."

Rick felt his heart tighten in his chest at her words.

He wasn't sure what he had expected, but this certainly wasn't it.

He cleared his throat and then faced Michonne. "That's good," he told her. "He was always a part of you. Now he's a part of Zari. And when the time's right, you can tell her all about her brother Andre. She'd like to know him. She _deserves_ to know him."

Michonne swallowed back the tears. "So does Judith," whispered Michonne.

Rick pulled Michonne to him, wrapping his arms around her. "Any other similarities between them?"

"She's a daddy's girl, that's for sure. That first year Andre was Mike's, and Mike's only. He would cry whenever I was around, but let Mike be within five feet…." Michonne smiled softly at the memory. "I'm sure more things will come. I just… wasn't really prepared for them. I never thought I'd have any more children, then I met Carl and Judith, but they didn't _come_ from me. I wasn't prepared to have a child that might remind me of Andre when I least expected it. Even when I had Zari I didn't think that she could remind me of Andre. I knew she wouldn't _look_ like him…. And when she looked up at me and I saw your blue eyes… I didn't think she could be more perfect."

"But you were wrong."

Michonne nodded. "Yah, I was wrong alright." She breathed deeply, leaning into his embrace. "I want Aaron to capture a picture of Zari smiling, so when I do tell them about Andre, I can show them."

Rick nodded. "I'll get right on it."

If anyone would, it was Rick.

…

Michonne had just finished putting the picture in the frame when Carl walked down the stairs. Before turning around to greet him she sat the frame up right, sat it on the mantel, and stepped back.

"Is that him?" asked Carl, suddenly right next to her.

Michonne nodded. "Yah. Yah, that's Andre."

Carl stepped closer, looking the photo over. "He's handsome. It was a good idea my dad had, for you to draw him." Carl looked back at Michonne. "I know it probably wasn't easy."

"It was easier than I thought it would be, and way past due." She looked at Carl. "I could draw one of Lori for you and Judith if you'd like. I've missed it. Drawing. Painting." She glanced at the cat Rick had gotten from the Junkyard. "Sculpting."

Carl stood up straight and stared at her for a long moment. "Nah. We're good. You're Judith's mother. You're all she knows." Michonne stayed quiet. "What?"

"Your dad will probably want Judith to know about Lori. And the truth is… one day she's gonna figure it out."

"Not if no one tells her. Race is taught. As far as I'm concerned, Judith and I are just light-skinned."

Michonne threw her head back and laughed and Carl smiled.

"I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to make me feel better."

Carl sobered up. "It's been a while since you laughed," admitted Carl.

Michonne took a deep breath. "I'm tryin'. Drawing him helped. Having this picture out in the open will help even more. It'll make it easier for me to tell Judith and Zari about him, when the time's right."

Carl nodded and glanced at the picture again. Then he glanced at the picture Aaron had taken of Zari, reaching out and picking it up. "Zari _does_ have his smile," Carl agreed. "And his eye shape." He looked up at Michonne. " _Your_ eye shape. And _your_ laugh." Carl sat the picture down. "It's nice to know what my brother's laugh sounds like."

Michonne felt the tears at his words, but couldn't say anything. It didn't seem like Carl expected her to say anything, though.

"I gotta get back to Hilltop," he said. "I'll see you next week, Mom." He gave her a kiss on the forehead, and with a gentle squeeze to the shoulder, he gave her a simple, "See you later," and headed out the door.

Michonne stared at the two pictures, adjacent to each other, one of Zari, taken only a few days ago with a professional camera, and one drawn by her hand just this morning.

Other family photos littered the fireplace mantle: one of Rick and Michonne on their wedding day; another of Rick, Michonne, Carl, and Judith on their wedding day; one of Rick and Michonne and Glenn and Maggie when they had had a date night with Aaron and Eric. That was the only and last photo they had taken with Glenn. There was also a family picture of when Michonne had given birth to Zariah, and a photo of Rick, Michonne, Judith, and Zariah. One of Michonne's favorite pictures was one of her, Rick, Carl, Judith, and Zariah, all of them dressed in black jeans and denim shirts. Then there was the photo of Carl holding Judith and Judith holding Zariah. There was a photo of Judith playing with her red solo cups as a toddler.

And now there was a photo of Zariah smiling, and another one of Andre smiling. Side by side, the two looked nearly identical.

"I still miss you, Peanut," whispered Michonne.

With one last glance, Michonne made her way outside to start her rounds.

A/N: Ended up being one of my all-time favorite one-shots ever written.


	117. Sweetheart and Angel

Eek! I MISS YOU GUYS! So let me explain what had happened (or what's been happening). So yall know I moved clear across the damn country. I was in DC, HATED IT (especially since trump won) so I had to get out. Moved back to the West Coast to AZ in Feb. Got a job where I'm handling pretty high security information, so I can't access most websites. What I DO access is monitored, so with working an 8-5, it's been REALLY hard to post regularly. I don't like to post on the weekends because that's yalls time with yall's families and stuff and thangs. THANKFULLY I'm off this Memorial Day Weekend, so I'm posting today, but I'm gonna try REALLY hard to get a schedule down so I can start posting again and taking prompts. CUS I FREAKING MISS YALL, and Richonne!

SOOO much has happened since we last talked. In the season finale we lost Sasha... that was devastating. I've grown to LOVVVVE Maggie and HATE Rosita. I still hate Carol/Daryl, that'll never change. Father G is bae. Jesus is my life lol. Jadis. Must. DIE. And Negan is still a rapist. Christian (who plays Rosita) just had a baby. Chandler just had his graduation party. Danai is done filming Black Panther and All Eyez On Me comes out June 16th. Sonequa is about to KILL THE GAME in Star Trek (even though people are upset so many minority women are in the lead smh). Corey Hawkins (who plays Heath) was nominated for a Tony. Needless to say, the cast is doing well. What's been up with yall? UPDATE ME ON UR LIVES :)

Finally, here's a piece written FOREVER ago, it was a prompt. I do think it's a little OOC, but sometimes it's hard to get Richonne perfect. Don't judge it too harshly lol. Thanks for all the support, and I'm sorry that I haven't been posting as much. I'ma see what I can do to change that, I promise.

* * *

 _Prompt—"Could you do something dealing with Rick staying at home with Zari and Judith so Michonne can get some free time outside of the house? She could leave on a run or hang with the girls...whatever, but when she comes back Rick and the girls are knocked out because they wore him out. He gives Michonne the comical details later._ _" –mtownrichonner_

 **SWEETHEART AND ANGEL**

 **Rated T**

Rick held a crying Zari in his lap, trying to get his youngest daughter to calm down. She'd been crying since Michonne had handed her off to him and left the house to enjoy a much needed girls' night. Sasha and Maggie had come down from Hilltop to offer Michonne a break. She needed it. Maternity leave had lasted much longer in the apocalypse, and it had been six months of Michonne being in the house with Zari and Judith.

It had been so long since she'd been around other adults that she was talking in baby talk even to adults.

Not to mention she was snapping at Rick left and right. He figured it was time for her to let her hair down, so Maggie and Sasha would spend a few hours here drinking wine and ultimately catching up.

Rick had volunteered to take care of Judith and Zari. He'd even allowed Carl to hang out with Enid, who would come down with Maggie and Sasha, convinced that he didn't need his son's help.

He was wrong.

Zari seemed to know that Michonne was gone, and Judith still hadn't fully adapted to no longer being the youngest. She was vying for all of his attention and was currently pulling on Rick's pants leg and continuously shouting out, "Daddy!"

"Judith, if you could jus' _stop_ for _two minutes_ ," groaned Rick. "And Zari if you could jus' stop all together…. You'll attract every walker for _miles_ with those lungs. Mommy deserves a couple of hours to herself." Zari whimpered as if she disagreed. "It's true," Rick continued. "First she carried you for nine months, then she breast fed you for six…. All she wants is a little time to herself. And in this world, that ain't all that easy to come by. Now Aunt Maggie and Aunt Sasha came all the way from Hilltop to hang with your mother. Let's let her enjoy the few hours she has to herself, okay?"

Zari frowned, but she stopped crying. Rick started to breathe a little easier. He looked down at Judith, who was staring at him with tears in her own eyes.

"And you," started Rick. "Get up here." Judith, not wasting any time, started to climb the couch. Rick let her be. It took her a while, but it was important for her to be independent. Eventually she did it, and the first thing she tried to do was sit on Rick's lap. "You can't sit here," Rick told Judith. "Your baby sister is here."

Judith stared up at him, her eyes welling, the tears threatening to spill.

"Sit right next to me, Sweetheart," said Rick softly, and pulling her close, he wrapped his arms around Judith. "Listen to me very carefully, 'cus this is important. I know you're used to all the attention bein' on you. And bein' the first baby of the apocalypse, you're spoiled rotten. Did you know there was a time that Carl and I thought we lost you? When we realized your Aunt Carol and Uncle Tyreese had you, we couldn't have been more relieved. After that, we hardly ever let you outta our sight. I couldn't live with that kinda pain again. But we have to find a happy medium. You have to share your time now. You're a big sister, just like Carl's a big brother."

"Sister?"

"Yah, sister," Rick said, gazing into Judith's eyes. "Zari is your baby sister, and she can't do much on her own right now, so Mommy and I have to take care of her. We need your help to do that. Mommy and I need you to act like a big girl. When you see me or Mommy helping Zari, we need you to act like a big girl. No tantrums, no whining…. And know just because you have a little sister, doesn't mean Mommy and I don't love you, or don't have time for you."

"But _I_ used to sit on your lap."

"Yah, but you can walk now. You can climb on the couch. You can sit next to me without fallin' over. Zari can't do that yet. When Zari can do that, she won't be in my lap as much anymore either. Think about Carl. He never sits in my lap. Carl's almost an adult. As you get older, you stop doin' things like that."

Judith frowned, clearly thoughtful. "But Mommy sits in your lap sometimes."

Rick opened his mouth and then shut it, not immediately sure how to respond to that. Then he smiled. "Mommy's not my child. She's my wife. She's allowed to sit in my lap whenever she wants."

" _I'm_ your Sweetheart. I should be 'llowed to sit in your lap when I want to." She folded her arms across her chest as if the matter was settled.

"You _are_ my Sweetheart, but Zari is my Angel, and she needs my attention too. In fact, she needs it more than you do." Judith looked like she was about to argue, so Rick rushed on. "But you'll _always_ be my Sweetheart. You're my first little girl, so you'll always hold a special place in my heart. No one will ever be able to take that from me. You have no reason to be jealous of Zari. It's not a competition. I love you just as much as I love her, and just as much I love Carl. You're sisters. You're supposed to protect each other, and love each other, and share secrets, and… I don't know paint each other's toenails and thangs while doin' each other's hair."

"I like when Mommy does my hair."

"What about when I do your hair?"

"Uhhh…" Judith's voice trailed and Rick's mouth sprung open.

"Are you sayin' you don't like when I do your hair?" Judith scrunched up her nose. "Well then." And all those times Michonne had told him he'd done a good job…. "Well now you have Zari who can help you, and you can help her since apparently I'm not good."

"I get to play with her hair?" And now suddenly Judith looked interested.

Rick nodded. "When she's old enough, and if she lets you."

"Mommy lets me play in hers."

"I let you play with mine."

"But Mommy's hair is longer. Carl's hair is better too."

"That's 'cause Carl's hair is as long as Mommy's," muttered Rick, slightly offended. Judith laughed like she was in on some big secret.

"I love you Daddy." She stood up on the couch before Rick could stop her, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. "And I love _you_ , Zari." Then she bent down and kissed her sister's forehead.

Rick smiled as Judith ran off.

One crisis averted.

He only had two minutes or so until the next one.

…

When Michonne walked inside the house it was quiet and dark. It wasn't all that late, but she couldn't say she was surprised that Rick would have called it an early night.

It definitely wasn't an early night for her. She had stayed out an extra hour, and she was feeling it. She was exhausted, and slightly drunk. She hadn't drank like that in years, and since Sasha was the designated driver (figuring she was the only one without a child, she sacrificed a night of drinking) Maggie and Michonne shared the bottle of wine, with Maggie convincing Michonne that she needed it more and should therefore drink more.

She wondered, briefly, if she should wake Rick up for drunk sex. She'd never experienced that with him. it might be fun.

Except when she got to their room, she realized that everyone _wasn't_ asleep.

Zari was. She was sleeping peacefully on top of her father, who was also sound asleep, one arm wrapped around Zari, the other hand holding a book.

But Judith was wide awake, a tube of lipstick in her hand, and she had drawn all over her father's face.

At least the girl was in her PJs.

"Judith Grimes," whispered Michonne, attempting to stay firm. The little girl jumped and gasped, clearly surprised to have been caught red-handed. "What is it you think you are doing?"

"Ummm…"

"Don't 'ummm' me. We _talked_ about this, and the way Daddy and I need you to be responsible. We need you to act like a big girl, remember?" Judith poked out her bottom lip and nodded. Michonne sighed. She couldn't deal with this right now. "Come on. Let's go to bed." Michonne held out her head and Judith started to leave the bed. Halfway through she stopped, turned around, and kissed her father.

"Night Daddy, I love you," said Judith softly, as was their custom. Then she turned to Zari and, even more gently, kissed her younger sister. "Goodnight Zari. Sissy loves you."

And then she got off of the bed and ran to Michonne, wrapping her arms around Michonne's legs. Michonne bent down and picked Judith up, carrying her to her room that she now shared with Zari.

"Get in bed, Sweetheart," Michonne sighed.

"But I'm not tired," whined Judith softly as she climbed into bed.

"Oh yes you are."

"Mommy mad?" whispered Judith.

"I'm not mad. I just know that you know better."

"I just wanted Daddy to look pretty."

"Your daddy's already pretty. He doesn't need lipstick all over his face to prove that."

"I'm sorry."

"Mhmm," Michonne said, but she couldn't help it: she grinned. She sat on Judith's bed and tucked her daughter in. "Were you good for Daddy tonight?"

Judith nodded. "We talked. He told me that I'm a big girl now, and can't sit on his lap anymore. Even though _you_ sit on Daddy's lap _all_ the time, and you're _way_ bigger than me." The accusation in her voice was not lost on Michonne.

Michonne was momentarily stunned that Judith had made such an observation. "I'm not on his lap _all_ the time." She kind of was, but she wasn't about to let a three-year-old guilt trip her. She and Rick would need to be more careful, Judith was at a very impressionable age. "What did Daddy say about me being on his lap?"

"That you weren't his daughter," yawned Judith.

"Was that a yawn?"

"No."

"Judith." Michonne was stern about not being lied to.

"Sorry. Yes, it was a _tiny_ yawn."

"Then close your tiny eyes and go to bed." Michonne leaned down and kissed Judith's forehead. "Mommy loves you."

"Love you too."

Michonne stood up and walked back to her bedroom and approached Rick. She leaned down and gently kissed him until he stirred. He shifted and moaned softly.

"Rick," she whispered. "Let me put Zari to bed."

"Wha'? Oh, I got it."

"No, you need to go clean your face."

"My face?"

Michonne smiled as she carefully picked up Zari. "Go to the bathroom and you'll see. Thank your oldest daughter."

"Carl home yet?"

"He walked in about an hour before me. Enid came over and fell asleep like five minutes after her arrival."

"Man, I must have been out of it."

Michonne flashed him a smile. "You're about to see how out of it." She left so that she could tuck Zaria in, kissing her Angel goodnight, and then she checked in on Carl, kissing him goodnight as well.

When she arrived back to her room Rick came out of the bathroom. "I flushed your tube of lipstick down the toilet," he told her, and Michonne laughed. "How was your night?"

" _Much_ needed," Michonne admitted. She walked up to him and kissed him. "Thank you for sacrificing a few hours."

"They're our kids, it wasn't a sacrifice," said Rick. "Even if your oldest daughter did chastise me for letting you sit on my lap."

"Did she yell at you too? I felt like I should be grounded."

Rick laughed and pulled Michonne to him again, placing his lips on hers. "You taste like Moscato."

"Maggie and Sasha brought some really good stuff."

"And you're feelin' it too," observed Rick.

"Wouldn't mind feeling something else," Michonne told him.

Rick grinned and pulled her towards the bed. "Good. You can sit on my lap."

Michonne laughed until Rick silenced her giggles with kisses.


	118. Knowing

_Anyone else wonder why in "Knots Untie" everyone except Daryl looked surprised at seeing a half-naked Rick and Michonne pulling down her shirt? Thought I'd write a one-shot on Daryl's take on a few things Richonne_.

 **KNOWING**

 **Rated T**

Daryl grabbed his plate and nodded to Carol, and then his eyes swept the room for a free place to sit.

It was more crowded than usual.

Probably because Michonne was back from her search with the Governor.

Which would explain why Rick was not eating in his cell, and why he was generally walking around being Officer Friendly for once.

When Michonne was gone, Rick was moodier, snapping at everyone, impossible to talk to, and often ate alone in his cell. He didn't really interact with anyone. Instead he just doubled up on watches, spending most of his time looking out into the forest with his binoculars.

Daryl wondered if Rick knew he was looking for Michonne.

He didn't suspect so. Lori hadn't died too long ago, but subconsciously, Michonne had a pull on Rick, whether he was ready to admit or not.

It was kind of obvious, seeing Rick, Carl, and Michonne all seated together, eating, laughing, joking.

Daryl himself couldn't pinpoint when things had changed. The three of them had come back from that run with a crib, and the next thing Daryl knew, Michonne was taking watch with Carl even more so than Rick was.

Daryl suspected Rick watching Carl and Michonne bond was only one of the reasons why one minute Michonne was supposed to be leaving for good, and the next minute she was getting her own cell.

Rick didn't laugh or joke, unless Michonne was around. But it was kind of nice, Daryl mused. He would appreciate this time while he could, because it was only a matter of time before she went back out there.

…

When Daryl saw Michonne was back, he couldn't help but grin. At least the people would get a break from Rick's attitude now.

His pleasure was short lived when he realized Michonne hadn't found the Governor and was thinking about looking towards Macon.

Daryl took one look at Rick and decided he was going to try and talk Michonne out of it. Macon was far, and would require Michonne to go on a lot longer trip than a couple of weeks.

Daryl couldn't imagine being around Rick while Michonne was gone for a month or longer.

He wasn't sure he'd gotten through to Michonne, but there wasn't much time to think about it. He was on his way to make a run and Michonne volunteered to come along.

And then everything went to hell, from a sickness to an attack, and they were all separated.

He realized he'd take grumpy Rick over no Rick at all.

…

Sometimes people had to figure things out for themselves.

Rick was one of those people

He _thought_ he could knock Michonne out, tie her up, and drag her off to the Governor, but Daryl knew better. It was the reason Rick wanted Merle, so that his brother could do the dirty work.

Rick would never go through with it.

Still, it didn't hurt for Daryl to remind him. "This ain't us, man."

It _wasn't_ them, no matter what Rick _thought_ , and he wouldn't give Michonne away.

Not Michonne.

She was one of them.

She was part of the family. She'd earned her keep, deep down Rick knew that. He was still coming to terms with it, but he would see it.

She was special.

Everyone could see it.

Eventually Rick would too.

…

Daryl stared at Rick and Michonne as they talked ahead on the train tracks, Carl next to him. He let them have their moment – they needed it – and he tried not to eavesdrop.

He couldn't say he was surprised at all to see Michonne with them.

Who the hell else would she be with?

Those two… they were something else. Something tangible. They reminded him of something he had forgotten about a long time ago.

 _He_ couldn't think like that, but they could. They _should_.

Rick still didn't see it, though. That much Daryl knew for sure. For now Michonne was slowly turning into his work wife.

She was his best friend, his confidant.

Daryl didn't mind losing that spot. Rick had called him his brother earlier, and that had felt good, figuring he'd already lost his own. But his right hand man, the one he'd listen to, the one he'd die trying to protect… that belonged to Michonne.

There was no one more fitting in Daryl's opinion.

…

Alexandria was different.

He had yet to decide if it was a good different or not.

Daryl could see Rick unraveling, but he couldn't blame him. Rick hadn't had a chance to catch his breath since Lori died. Everything just kept happening. Alexandria was the wrong place, but logically it was the best place for him to have his breakdown.

Watching Rick and Michonne at odds with each other was like witnessing a married couple have their first lover's quarrel. Neither of them knew how to act around each other, and it was even worse when everybody moved out.

They could barely look at each other it seemed like.

Daryl felt somewhat guilty about that. Not to mention that Aaron and Eric were good people…. Maybe him, Rick, and Carol were overreacting.

Clearly the secrecy was taking its toll on Rick. He wasn't used to hiding things from Michonne.

The two of them needed each other. They worked better together. They _were_ better together.

Daryl was starting to see Michonne's point of view. They were better off here. They could make this place work. They needed this place, the same way this place needed them.

He had to admit he was relieved when Michonne knocked Rick out. She'd knocked some sense into him, Daryl was sure of it. They would be able to talk, and then they'd make up, and maybe the house wouldn't be as tense.

Those two were better on the same page.

…

"You happy to finally be moving off the couch?" asked Michonne.

"Can't say I'm happy with how it happened," Daryl grumbled. "We lost a lota good people in order for the rest of our people to move out. But it'll be nice to be in my own bed."

"You sure you don't want the room upstairs?"

"Nah. You belong up there with Carl and Judith." He purposely kept himself from saying Rick's name. She wasn't anymore ready than Rick was. "I'll hold the fort down here. Cain't no one get to y'all without them first gettin' to me."

"They'll have a hell of a fight on their hands," stated Michonne as Rick walked in the front door. They both nodded to him. "Especially with you being a former homicide cop and all."

Daryl snorted as Rick looked at them quizzically.

"Homicide? What are we talkin' about?" Rick asked.

"Didn't you know? Daryl was a detective before the Turn."

"She's bullshittin' man," said Daryl. "Ain't nothin' appealin' about that shit. Don't know how the hell anyone does that shit." Daryl sent Rick a smirk.

"Real funny," Rick said sarcastically.

"Am I jokin'?"

"I'm telling Carl," said Michonne.

"Why the hell would he care?"

Michonne stared at Daryl. "The first thing he asked for when he woke up was his hat."

Rick stared at her, thoughtful. "You think Carl would have been a cop?"

"I think Carl _is_ a cop." Rick just stared at Michonne. "He'd have definitely followed in your footprints."

Rick continued to stare at Michonne as she made her way into the downstairs bedroom. When she came back out with another box Rick immediately walked up to her.

"Here, I got this," Rick said, grabbing the box and heading upstairs.

"Thanks," smiled Michonne.

Daryl watched them as they made their way upstairs. Maybe if he was lucky, Rick would slip on top of Michonne… and the rest would be history.

…

Daryl walked into the house to see Michonne and Rick on the couch.

"Hey," Michonne said. "How was your run with Aaron?"

"Borin' as shit, of course," replied Daryl, sitting down on the table, as was his custom.

"Dinner's in the kitchen."

"I know. Thanks."

The three of them chatted together for a little while before Daryl pretended he was tired and headed off to bed in order to give them privacy.

Eventually those late night talks on the couch would start to mean something to them.

..

Daryl finished cleaning and drying his plate and then turned when he heard Michonne coming down the stairs.

"Hey, you have any toothpaste? I'm out."

"Nah," Daryl lied. "You should ask Rick."

"I would, but he's in the shower and I just wanted to brush my teeth and go to bed. I guess I'll wait for him to finish, though."

"Yah, that's a good idea," stated Daryl. "I'ma hit the showers myself. See ya tomorrow."

Michonne headed back upstairs while Daryl headed to his room.

…

Daryl climbed up to the guard post and nodded to Rick.

"Aaron I should probably make a run soon," Daryl told Rick.

"How soon?" asked Rick, glancing from the forest to Daryl.

"Pretty soon. Checked out our stock, we're gettin' kinda low. I'm sure Litte Ass-Kicker could use some things, but we definitely need food, man."

Rick nodded, gripping his gun, and for the first time Daryl realized Rick's wedding ring was gone. He stared at Rick's hand for a minute, a small smile on his face.

Soon. It'd happen soon.

Either he was letting himself know, or he was letting Michonne know.

"What do you say you and I go instead? For old time's sake?" asked Rick. Daryl stared at him in surprise. "We could see about lettin' some more people in."

"I don't know about all that, but I'm down to go on a run. Could be fun. We could use a little bit of fun, don't ya think?"

"Yah, I do," laughed Rick. Daryl patted Rick's back and left.

…

"How long do you think Rick and Michonne have been uggin' bumplies?" asked Abraham.

Daryl stared at him for a few seconds, a million different scenarios in his head. Their first time had definitely been last night, that much he knew, but was he surprised?

Hell no.

He didn't know how to explain that to Abe, though, so Daryl just mumbled out an elusive, "I don't know," and hoped Abe would leave it at that.

…

Daryl walked in the house and was immediately met with a gun drawn on him.

"Shit," Rick said, immediately lowering his gun and putting it back down on the tale. "I'm sorry."

Daryl softly closed the door and looked at Rick as he sat on the couch. "What are you doin', man?" asked Daryl.

"Can't sleep."

Daryl lowered his crossbow and sighed, sitting across from Rick on the coffee table. "Rick, this has gotta stop. What happened was tragic, man, but we're gonna get through this. We gotta."

Rick looked down. "I know."

Daryl looked at what Rick was fingering and sighed. "Why are you still carryin' around Michonne's hair? She's fine. She right upstairs, Rick. She survived."

"It's different with her," Rick admitted softly. "Even in comparison to Lori…. How I feel about Michonne surpasses that."

"I know," said Daryl quietly.

"I can't lose her."

"You won't."

"I feel closer to her than I ever did with Lori. She honestly means everything to me." Rick continued to finger the 'locks.

"There _is_ life after this, man. You'll see. One day you'll wake up and it'll all be okay again. We're gonna kill Negan. You know we will. It won't be easy, but we'll do it."

Rick didn't look at him but he nodded. Daryl stood up, taking Michonne's hair with him, and walked to his bedroom. Closing the door, he tossed the hair that had been glued to a walker in the trash.

Rick wouldn't lose Michonne. None of them would.

Not when he had just gotten her.

…

"So I guess that shiny ring on her finger means she said yah?" asked Daryl.

Rick hung his head and grinned, then he stared back at Daryl. "You'll be best man?"

Daryl blinked at Rick. "What about Carl?"

"Michonne asked if he could give her away. I thought it was a great idea. He'll still stand up there next to us, of course, but… I thought you could do the honors."

Daryl looked down and nodded, more touched than he ever thought possible. He'd never thought about being something like that for anyone, ever.

"Just one thing," Rick said, and Daryl arched an eyebrow. "You gotta shower."

Daryl snorted. "Yah, we'll see." Rick laughed. "I'm happy for you. You know that, right?"

"Yah, I know," said Rick.

Daryl figured Rick knew a lot of things now.


	119. First Night Home

_Prompt—"1st night home with Zari._ _" –Kjohnson729_

 **FIRST NIGHT HOME**

 **Rated K**

Rick pulled up to the Alexandria gates and flashed his lights a couple of times. A few seconds later the gates were open and Rick drove through. He kept driving until he reached the front of his home. Turning off the engine he sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Then he got up and walked to the back of the RV.

He found Michonne sprawled across the best, knocked out, Zaria in her arms, also asleep. Carl was next to her, one leg on the ground, the other across the bed, his head resting on Michonne's shoulder. Judith was on his lap, leaning against his stomach.

Rick gently tapped Carl's leg. "Hey. We're home." Rick's oldest son shifted and moaned and then sat up, causing Michonne to stir. He bent down and picked up Zari, cradling his newborn daughter in his arms. She started to fuss and Rick gently bounced her on his hip. "Sh. Come on now, Angel. We're home." Zari stopped whining and rested her face in the crook of Rick's neck. "Atta girl." He looked at Carl. "Grab Judith and help your mother."

"Okay," yawned Carl.

"I'm okay," Michonne said softly. "Just grab Judith and I'll grab the bags."

"You sure?" asked Rick, and Michonne nodded.

Together the five of them made their way out of the RV and headed up the steps to their house. Rick stepped inside and lit the lamp and was immediately granted with a large banner that read CONGRATULATIONS! There were streamers and balloons all around as well.

"Cool," Carl said as he looked around, and Rick grinned. He faced Michonne and noticed his wife's eyes welling with tears. She was still a bit emotional. Rick reached for her hand and she grasped it.

"Look, Zari. Look what our friends did to welcome you home." Rick turned so that Zari could face the decorations. The little girl's head bobbled and then she let out a smile.

"Come on, Angel," said Michonne softly. "Let's go see your new room." They all climbed the stairs and made their way to Judith's room, passing Rick and Michonne's and Carl's. They walked to the last room and opened the door.

Judith immediately ran to her crib but Rick stopped her.

"That's not your bed anymore, Sweetheart." Judith turned and stared at her father, clearly confused. "Remember we told you that you had a big girl bed now? _That's_ your bed," and Rick pointed to the brand new bed against the window.

"But… why?" asked Judith.

"Because you've outgrown this one," Michonne stated, bending down so that she was eyelevel with Judith. "You're a big sister now, which means you're a big girl, and big girls don't sleep in cribs. Cribs are for _babies_ , like your sister Zari."

"But it's _my_ bed," Judith pointed out.

"Wrong. It _was_ your bed. You now have a new bed. And, besides that, it's time to learn how to share." Judith poked out her lip.

"How about this," said Carl, "what if I sleep with you in your brand new bed?"

Judith gasped. "Okay!"

"Good girl," Michonne said. "Now let's get ready for bed, okay?" Judith nodded and ran to her dresser.

"I think I'll do the same," stated Carl, and he disappeared off towards his room.

"Okay, Angel," Rick said, holding Zari at arm's length. "Let's get you all set for bed." He turned to Michonne. "Wanna get me her PJs?" Michonne nodded and started going through Zari's bag until she found a matching set. Then she handed them off to Rick.

Michonne stood back and watched as Rick carefully removed Zari's clothes, and then just as carefully replaced them, all the while talking to her, asking about her day, if the ride home was enjoyable.

Even at this age, Michonne could see the adoration in Zari's eyes as she looked up at her father. She cooed and smiled as Rick changed her, and then, when she was fully changed, she was back in Rick's arms.

"I think I might sleep in the crib with her," Rick admitted.

Michonne laughed. "I'm not quite sure you'll fit."

"Are you sure she can't sleep with us?"

"No co-sleeping, Rick. If we do it we'll never get rid of her."

"You speakin' from experience?"

"I am. My parents let me sleep with them as a baby and I didn't leave until I was like, twelve. I vowed not to do that with Andre, and I didn't. It was better for everyone."

"What about just for tonight?"

"Tonight will turn into a week, a week into a month, a month into a year." Rick poked out his lip, much like Judith had done a few moments ago, and Michonne laughed again. "What if we all slept in here tonight?" Rick's face immediately brightened. " _But_ Zari sleeps in her crib. You and I can sleep on the floor."

"I get the spot closest to the bed," Rick said immediately, and Michonne rolled her eyes.

Sometimes she didn't know if she carried Zari, or if Rick had.

When Carl came back inside he helped Judith finish getting ready for bed and Michonne and Rick headed to their room to change.

"I'll get a few cushions off the couch so you don't have to be on the floor," Rick told her once he was undressed. "Can you grab the sheets from the bed?" Michonne nodded and Rick leaned in for a kiss. "You feelin' okay?"

Michonne nodded and leaned in for another kiss.

"It feels good to be home," Michonne told Rick.

He gave her a soft smile. "Indeed it does." Rick kissed her forehead. "I never thanked you."

Michonne arched an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For givin' me another daughter. For comin' through the pregnancy alive and well. For blessin' me with somethin' so rare and beautiful."

"Thank you for being deserving of such a blessing," responded Michonne. "For proving that I can trust you enough to protect our children at all costs. That's why Zari's here, and it's why Carl and Judith are still here as well."

"You're jus' as responsible as I am." Rick kissed her again, pulling her closer, but before he could really get into it, Zari started crying. Rick sighed into Michonne's mouth. "It starts."

"Yes it does," grinned Michonne.

"I'll be right back," Rick said, heading downstairs. "You need anything?"

"A bottle of water, and an apple."

Rick nodded and disappeared, and Michonne headed towards her newborn daughter. It would be nice, she thought, all of them sleeping together. It was the perfect start to Zari's first night home.


	120. The Broken Road

Sorry for my lack of posting. Gonna try to get this story started again. Mondays and Wednesdays. Haven't been TWD inspired for a while. Sorry.

* * *

 _Title taken from part of the lyrics of The Rascal Flatts Song_.

 **THE BROKEN ROAD**

 **Rated T**

Rick watched Michonne as she slept, her naked body still glistening with sweat. She was curled up next to him, lying on her side, her breathing labored and soft.

Sometimes it stunned him how beautiful she was, and on nights like this, he wondered what took him so long to see it. He guessed he really hadn't time to think about it.

From the moment he had met her, life had been shit. He'd lost Lori and then Michonne was standing at the prison fence, and everything else had gone to shit so quickly.

He'd instantly been drawn to her, even if he hadn't known it at the time. They'd started out at odds with each other – she was strong-willed, didn't back down easily, had her own thoughts and ways of doing things and didn't immediately know how to be a team player.

He hadn't made it easy.

She was hot headed, her temper overriding her better judgment, at least at the very beginning there.

But it was funny the way fate played out. Had Hershel not advised him to let her stay until her wounds healed, he'd have told her to leave. Still, she proved herself useful after the Governor had driven walkers up to their home. She had helped get Hershel, and then she had helped kill the walkers.

Even with that, Rick hadn't been sure about her. Yet fate wasn't done lending him a helping hand. Had she not been so unpredictable, he might not have taken her along back to his old neighborhood, and Carl might not have told him that she was one of them.

And then she looked at him, dead in his face, and told him that it was okay that he saw things…. That she used to talk to her dead ex-boyfriend, and suddenly they were connected, and he realized that perhaps he'd misjudged her.

She'd proved herself as loyal as time passed.

As the weeks turned into months, and she started to head out to find the Governor, with or without Daryl, he found himself worrying about her. It was strange. He hadn't even remembered letting her in enough in order to even be afraid for her well being.

It was like she was literally just _there_ one day, in his heart.

Still, it would take him months to see it.

He just considered them the best of friends. He owed her his life. When the Governor had gotten his hands on him, when he was closer to death than he'd been since getting shot, when the world had slowly started to fade to black as he lost oxygen, it was Michonne's sword that had saved his life.

He'd forever be indebted to her.

When they had lost the prison, after Judith, Michonne was the first one he thought about, even before Glenn or Maggie or Carol or Daryl…. He never even thanked her for saving his life. He _couldn't_ , he'd been trying to get to Carl and Judith and he lost her….

And then she knocked on that door, not only alive, but well, and he'd laughed. It was the only thing he could do as the relief flooded his body at seeing her.

She was all right.

She was okay.

The road got rockier. It wasn't easy, not in this world, not in this life. But watching her bond with Carl… in retrospect it was probably when he had started to fall for her. For a long while she was the only one who could reach his son. She had answered his unasked question and had always looked out for Carl.

And she looked out for him without Rick ever even thinking to ask her to, the same way he looked out for without her having to ask.

They _worked_.

By the time they'd escaped from Terminus and had reunited with Judith, they knew each other. He wasn't sure how or when it happened. Maybe saving a person's life made them in tune with each other. But for whatever reason they could read each other's minds without having to ever say a word. Just a look, and they knew what to do.

They weren't always on the same page, though. They had their share of differences. Everybody did, at some point, but somehow, someway, their differences seemed to always make them stronger.

The mixture of losing Beth and finding out that Eugene lied about a cure seemed to have shaken the group more than anything. For the first time since Lori had died, it truly felt hopeless to Rick. The first time he'd felt a true ray of sunshine was finding Judith again. He'd gotten a glimpse of the sun when Michonne had found them, but that hadn't lasted long. It couldn't. Not with the attack from Joe and then Terminus… it just seemed to be one bad thing after another.

Finding Judith was something tangible, something he _needed_.

But the loss of Beth, the loss of a cure, weighed heavily on the group, and the last thing they needed was another death on their hands.

Tyreese's death was their downfall.

And then Aaron came along, preaching about some promised land that Rick wasn't sure even really existed.

He didn't know how to _believe_ anymore.

And then Michonne decided that they were going. She had made it clear that they had all been out there for too long, that being out there for so long was destroying them, and changing them.

If anyone knew about that, it was her.

So they had made their way to Washington, and eventually Alexandria, and within these walls he had slowly started to lose his mind.

He'd almost lost it, along with everything else.

The walls were offering everyone else freedom, but they were closing in on him. Suddenly he felt trapped, and everything that happened finally took its toll on him, from losing Lori, to the prison, to all the people…. To having his whole group turn their back on him for a piece of property that they weren't even sure was _safe_ yet.

For deciding to protect the people that might, at some point, cost them their lives because they were incompetent.

He'd reached his breaking point he had told Michonne.

Yet she had stood with him.

She had stood with him, even as he started to see Lori in Jessie. Here was a woman who _needed_ him, who needed his protection. She was the first person who made him think that maybe it was time to move on from Lori.

And the fact that when he kissed her there was no _real_ spark, the fact that kissing her was just something to _do_ , someone to connect with on the surface… he just pushed those thoughts out of his mind.

He had no clue what he'd been thinking. He hadn't even mourned her when she died. Not really. Not _truly_. He hadn't really needed to.

Rick vowed to himself that he wouldn't compare two women again. Jessie and Lori were similar in a lot of ways, but they weren't the same woman. He wasn't sure he could have ever loved Jessie.

Not like he had loved Lori.

And definitely not like he loved Michonne.

Michonne was… different. That's what he had told Carl, that this was different, because it was. There was nothing or no one to compare Michonne to. She was his best friend, and then she was more. He'd hurt her, lied to her, pointed a gun at her face, twice, he'd yelled at her, he'd doubted her….

But damn it he loved her. He had no idea there was still this much of him that _could_ love. He thought he only had a little bit left to give, that after Carl and Judith he wouldn't have too much room for anyone else, but she seemed to have opened up every flood gate imaginable.

He would protect her, but she didn't need his protection. The fact that she was still by his side was proof of that.

The road hadn't been easy. They had overcome a lot, and that was far from over. Watching her sleep, her silhouette highlighted from the sheen of the moon, was a rare moment in time, a time to remind himself to appreciate her for her strength, resilience, her beauty, her _love_.

He loved quiet nights like this. He _needed_ quiet nights like this. They never failed to remind him that even though times had never been easy, she had always helped make it worth it.

Bless the broken road that lead him straight to her.


	121. Positive

_I was re-reading one of my one-shots, and this hit me out of nowhere. Warning, the beginning is kind of dark._

 **POSITIVE**

 **Rated M for smut**

 _Michonne laughed as she held out her hands, waiting for Andre to walk to her. He had taken two steps, now he only needed to take a few more in order for him to be in his arms._

 _He outstretched his arms, a small, determined smile on his face, as he placed another foot forward, and Michonne continued to laugh as she encouraged him._

 _Then, just like that, Andre turned into Judith. "Momma," she said, and suddenly the little girl was running to her._

 _And then Judith was Andre again, and then Judith appeared. She stumbled and fell on top of Michonne's katana blade._

 _Mike was holding the katana._

 _Michonne screamed, intent on destroying Mike. He would pay, he would pay for it all, she would smash his face in, chop off his arms, and make him her walker._

 _Only in the blink of an eye, she saw two children as walkers, chained, clearly Andre and Judith, clearly dead. Michonne gasped and backed away, crying and screaming._

" _Hey!" they called. "Hey."_

"Hey! Michonne. _Michonne_!" She opened her eyes, gasping for air. "Sh, you're okay." Rick's voice was deep and soothing, and still laced with sleep. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. "You're okay. It was just a dream."

She looked at him, shaking. "Rick."

"You're okay." He ran his fingers through her hair, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear until she calmed down. "Do you wanna talk about it?" She shook her head and Rick bent down and kissed her. It was meant to be something to calm her nerves but she clung to him, her lips like fire on his.

Rick took that as his cue and climbed on top of her, his body covering hers. She moaned loudly as his hands made their way down their body and he settled between her legs.

He knew what she needed. She rarely had to tell him. He pushed into her, almost cruelly, aggressive and ferocious. Michonne clung on, meeting his thrusts with hard, fierce ones of her own. She bit her lip, trying not to scream as the pleasure started to overwhelm her. She sunk her teeth into his shoulder to muffle her moans. Rick grunted with each thrust, holding Michonne tighter, until she came, clenching around him.

Rick pulled out of her and turned her over, Michonne barely finding the time to balance herself, before Rick was inside of her again. She cried out a few times, moaning out a string of yesses before Rick covered her mouth. She bit his hand and he removed his hand and slid it down to her throat.

She arched her back and buried her face in the pillow until Rick pulled her to him, his lips covering hers to silence her groans, and the two of them came together and then collapsed, both of them breathing hard.

He immediately pulled her to him, burying his face in her neck and inhaling.

"I love you," he told her. "Whatever it is… we'll be okay, all right?"

Michonne looked at him, caressing his face. "I'm okay." He stared at her. "Everything is okay."

He nodded. "Can you sleep now?"

"Yah," nodded Michonne. She snuggled closer to him and closed her eyes. He settled behind her, fixing the blankets so that they were covered, and together, they drifted off to sleep.

…

Michonne waited until she knew Rick was making his rounds around Alexandria and would be preoccupied with all of his duties before finally getting out of bed.

She got out of bed, grabbing Rick's shirt, and slipped it on. Then she walked up to the door and opened it, peaking her head out. The house seemed quiet. Knowing Rick, he had told Carl to take Judith and leave Michonne be. She closed the door, locked it, and headed to the bathroom, locking that door as well.

She stared at herself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. She could feel her insides turning to jelly. She closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly, and then bent down and started feeling underneath the sink. She reached to the back and started feeling around for what she had taped to the top. She snatched it off, removing the tape, and stared at it.

A thousand different emotions ran through her head at this moment: fear, excitement, happiness, shock…. With shaking hands she opened the box, taking out its contents, and was shaking so badly she dropped it.

Michonne sighed. She could do this. She _had_ to do this.

Bending down she picked up the object, and already knowing what to do, took care of business.

While she waited she put her hair up to get ready for her shower, and then she brushed her teeth. Needing to leave the bathroom she opened the door and straightened up the bedroom, making the bed up with one hand while brushing her teeth with the other. She picked up all of her and Rick's clothes from last night and placed them in the laundry basket, and then she finally made her way back to the bathroom, rinsing out her mouth.

Finally she looked down.

Time momentarily stopped. She gripped the sink tightly as her body swayed as she processes the result.

 _Positive_.

That's what the last test had said, and the one before that.

They say third time was the charm.

Michonne closed her eyes, trying to process what it is she was feeling. Her heart was pounding, her breathing was labored, and she knew why.

It wasn't because of the results. She had suspected for quite some time now. No, the issue was that she hadn't told Rick yet. Everything would be okay, would be better once he knew.

Now Michonne just had to figure out how to tell Rick that she was pregnant.

* * *

A/N: This one-shot is NOTa part of the Universe with "A New Beginning" or "Happy to Be Wrong." Just a completely random one-shot where Michonne gets pregnant, because I assume Rick's pull-out game is weak af. Hello have you SEEN Michonne?


	122. Pillow Talk

_This takes place during "The Next World," right after Richonne finishes "uggin bumplies." Hahahahahahaha gets me every time. But anyway, though I think Richonne probably had mind-blowing, exhausting sex, I do NOT believe for one second they didn't have SOME sorta discussion afterwards. SO. Here ya go._

 **PILLOW TALK**

 **Rated M for smut**

Michonne gasped and released, Rick quickly following behind her. His mouth was on hers before she could even finish catching her breath, his lips capturing her in a move that had become familiar, despite the fact the first time they had ever kissed had only been tonight.

She was quickly losing air – something she should have been used by now since she'd been losing her breath since the minute he'd started kissing her downstairs on that couch – but she didn't care. She'd wasted too much time _not_ kissing him. She could very well kiss him for the rest of his life.

He finally pulled away, but Michonne couldn't decide if she'd rather have the ability to breathe air or breathe him. After a few seconds she reached up and kissed him again, her fingers sliding through his curls. He inhaled and pulled back again.

He slid off of her, laying on his back, his breathing hard. "Why in the hell didn't we do that sooner?"

Michonne sighed, curling into him so that her head was resting on his chest. "Because you weren't ready," she stated.

Rick tucked one arm behind his head and paused before answering. "And you were?"

Michonne smiled, thinking of the way Rick had flashed into her mind when Deanna asked her what it is she wanted. "I've been ready."

She knew he was surprised. Hell it had surprised her, until she thought about it.

"Why didn't you say anything?" asked Rick, gently caressing her side.

"You had to figure it out for yourself," Michonne told him. "So did I."

Rick paused again. "When did you figure it out?"

Michonne paused for the longest time, so long that Rick thought she might not answer. Then she spoke. "When I put my katana through a child to save you and Carl. That's when I knew for sure." Her voice was so soft, yet he clearly heard every word. She shifted so that she was looking up at him. "I suspected a little while ago. Deanna asked me once, what it is I wanted for me. I hadn't thought about. Not since the Turn. And when she asked me that, it was there, in the back of my mind, just a flicker of you, Carl, and Judith."

His eyes softened, and it was the first time she'd ever seen that occur in regards to her. It was gentle, like the way he would look at Judith, though unique and designed just for her.

"Spencer and I found Deanna today."

He sat up slightly. " _What_?"

"I was on watch, and I saw him sneaking into the woods with a shovel on his back. We found her after a while, but before that, I told him that he was safer in the gates, that his mother wanted this community to work, and it reminded me of the day she died, what she asked." Michonne paused, remembering. "He doesn't think he belongs here anymore. He told me I could go back, because I had a life here, and I knew what he was talking about. I knew what he was thinking. And he was right. I have family here."

"Yes you do," Rick stated, bending down to kiss her again. "I'm sorry it took so long, cus it makes sense. Everything about us makes _sense_."

Michonne sat up and met his lips again, and then slid back on top of him. She could feel him harden against her and groaned softly.

She rocked her hips into his once he entered her, burying her face in his neck. She hadn't known it could be like this. When she'd thought about her and Rick she hadn't gotten this far. She was more than pleasantly surprised, and more than satisfied, which is why she had no issue climbing on top of him.

She was afraid to be loud – not that she often was. She wasn't quiet in bed, she had no issue being vocal, but she had never been _loud_ per say – but with Carl and Judith so close… she couldn't think of anything worse than Carl finding out like _this_.

Yet the desire to allow her pleasure to escape orally was difficult to swallow down, so she kissed him to keep herself from crying out. He dug his fingers into her back, pushing her in deeper, and she couldn't help it: she choked out a gasp of pleasure, speeding up, as another orgasm forced its way through her.

"Michonne," grunted Rick, and then his lips captured hers. She moaned out his name and then whimpered softly, placing her forehead on his. She gripped his hands for balance, riding out another orgasm, and came, hard, Rick cursing and following suit.

Exhausted she slid off of him, breathing hard. Rick seemed paralyzed, and she lay the same way she fell: one leg over Rick's so that his knee was still between her legs, one arm at her side, the other across his chest. His hand, funnily enough, found its way to her ass, and she couldn't say she was all that surprised.

She felt sleep starting to consume her, and she didn't fight it. She felt her eyes grow heavy and let out a soft sigh.

Maybe she'd wake him up for round three in the morning.

* * *

A/N: I always go back and forth on if Michonne knew about her feelings or not.


	123. Black Hair Care

_Prompt—"Love your fics! I would love to see Rick dealing with black hair. It's a whole thing." –Jayjay_

 _Few things: I wrote this back way back when, before the S7 finale, so you're about to see a character here who passed on, even though this one-shot would be set in the future. Black hair is complex and I showcase this here._

 _Second, it is sort of a sensitive topic. I know when I speak about Trump and the abomination he is that SOME people get offended. I don't care that you're offended, but I do think I should at least warn people before I write something. Maybe that'll be fairer. So this will fall under sort of sensitive. I find it funny that I'm posting it now, with everything that's going on._

 _ANYway, this one shot is probably a little more sensitive than most. I will be talking about Black hair care, but it's nothing that simple. Some of you may want to skip this one, and that's okay._

 _Lastly, in light of what went on in Charlottesville this past weekend…. In people finally seeing Trump for who he really is, and seeing America for what it really is, it has been a pretty difficult past few days for me. I'm still hurting. We're a nation still hurting. But I'm not done fighting. I'll never be done fighting. I almost feel sorry for people who were blind-sighted by the racist Trump is. I saw right through him, but I knew what to look for. I keep seeing things like "This isn't the country I know." But it is the country I live in and know. Just something to think about._

 _I will leave you with this quote: "If 'I' is replaced with 'We,' even "illness" becomes "wellness." –Malcolm X._

 _Enjoy._

* * *

 **BLACK HAIR CARE**

 **Rated K**

Michonne's laugh caught in her throat as she approached her house and heard Zari crying. Immediately reaching for her sword Michonne took off, Sasha right behind her, her hand on her gun. They barged through the door to find Rick on the couch, Judith  
next to him, and Zari in his lap. There was a comb in his hand and Zari was screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Rick," breathed Michonne, " _what_ are you doing?"

"I'm tryin' to get her hair to lay down," Rick responded, grimacing.

"It' doesn't _lay down_ ," snapped Michonne, and Rick looked up at her. He noticed the look in Michonne's eyes and frowned. "Her hair isn't supposed to."

"Michonne," Sasha said softly. "He doesn't – _wouldn't_ – know." Rick watched as Sasha and Michonne stared at each other for a few seconds, and then Michonne gave Sasha a curt nod. "I guess I'll go ahead and head back to the Hilltop. I'll see you  
later." Michonne didn't reply and Sasha glanced at Rick, pity evident in her eyes, and then she disappeared.

"What did I do?" asked Rick. "I was ju's tryin' to do her hair so you wouldn't have to."

Michonne took a deep breath. Before she could respond Carl walked through the door. "Hey, we could hear Zari three houses down. Everything okay?"

"Can you take Judith upstairs so I can talk to your father for a moment?" asked Michonne.

Carl stared at Michonne for a few seconds, and then shrugged. "Sure." He bent down and picked up to Judith, who laughed and giggled like she did _every_ time Carl picked her up, and Michonne waited until she knew they were all the way upstairs before  
facing Rick.

"You can't treat Zari's hair the same way you treat Judith's. They don't have the same hair. Zari's hair isn't going to lay down. Everything you _think_ you know about hair when it comes to Zari, you don't. Her hair – _our_ hair – is completely  
different from yours. Judith's hair is naturally straight. Zari's hair is naturally curly. Where a permwould make Judith's hair curly, it would make our hair straight. Furthermore, with Zari being mixed, a relaxer would most likely make her  
hair fall out. Black hair is extremely complex, and I don't have the time of the patience to explain it to you, so from now on, let's leave Zari's hair to me." With those words Michonne bent down and picked up Zari, turning her back on Rick and heading  
upstairs.

…

About an hour later Rick found Michonne in their room, her bathrobe on, a towel draped around her hair. Zari had on a tee shirt that was too big for her, and was sitting in Michonne's lap. Michonne was currently massaging some baby lotion into Zari's  
scalp.

Rick leaned against the doorframe. "You wanna tell me what's really botherin' you?" asked Rick, folding his arms across his chest.

Michonne took a few seconds to answer. Never looking at him, she spoke her, voice soft. "When I was in second grade, our class was discussing hygiene and what not… including hair. I remember the teacher talking about how you're supposed to wash your hair  
every day, but I was confused, because that's not what I did. At home we washed our hair every week or week and a half. My teacher… Mrs. Steinfield… I'll never forget. She made me feel like I was an abomination…. She made it seem like she was utterly  
disgusted with this knowledge, like I was the grossest thing she'd ever seen walking."

Michonne grew quiet for a few minutes before continuing on. "When my mom picked me up she knew something was wrong, and it didn't take long for me to tell her the whole story. I burst into tears, absolutely mortified. My mother went _off_. She called  
my school, and I could hear her even in my room. I was too young to understand what she was saying. All I know is when I got to school the next day, the principal gave me a personal apology, and teachers I had never even met were apologizing to me.  
By the next week my mother had transferred me to another school.

"My mother had to teach me about Black hair, and how and why it was different from everyone else's. It was just one of the many differences I would have to learn about. My skin color's different. My features are different. My _culture_ is different…."

Her voice trailed again, and now she looked at Rick. "I remember being terrified when I had Andre. I had no idea how to raise a Black man. How soon should we explain to him that there would be a target on his back for all of his life? How soon should  
we explain that he would most likely always be seen as a threat? How long should we let him be innocent and naïve? When do we have the talk with him about how to act when he gets pulled over by the police? To always keep your hands at ten and two,  
to make no sudden movements, to always say 'Yes, Sir,' or 'No, Sir….'"

Michonne took a deep breath. "I don't know what the rules are in this new world. I'm not sure if anyone cares about skin color or hair texture anymore. I do know this apocalypse didn't kill all the racists… and eventually those things will be passed down  
once people start having children again. One day Judith is going to realize that Zari is different. One day Zari's going to realize she's different. She might ask why her hair won't lie flat. Seeing you attempt to make our Black child's hair identical  
to our white child's hair… it took me back to that classroom. Zari… even in this new world… will always be different. She'll have to learn to love her dark skin, the same way I had to learn. She'll have to learn to embrace her curls, the same way  
I had to learn. I don't know if race, ethnicity and culture will be as big a deal in this world, but I do know no matter what, Zari will be viewed as a Black woman. I have to prepare her for that. And you?" Her gaze grew fierce. "You'll have to learn.  
Because you can't put baby lotion in Judith's hair. And you can't ever try to make Zari's hair flat again. And why did you try to make Zari's hair like Judith's and not the other way around? These are pre-conceived notions that people aren't even  
aware of. These are things I have to think about, and talk to her about, while trying to train her for this world."

"Michonne, I didn't know."

"I know. But you're going to have to know." Michonne looked down at Zari. "She has her father's curls, and her mother's texture. Maybe when she's older I can put 'locs in her hair." Michonne shrugged. "For the time being… just come to me if you have any  
questions on how to do Zari's hair. Because Black hair care… is no joke, especially in an apocalypse."

Michonne stared at him. "Do you get what I'm saying?"

Rick nodded. "Yah, I do."

Michonne nodded. "Good. Now come here so I can show you how to do your daughter's hair."

"Yes, Ma'am," grinned Rick. And as usual, he did what he was told.


	124. Comforting Michonne

_Prompt—"I liked this prompt and what you did with it. Michonne there to comfort him. Which brings me to my prompt. One where Michonne is up in her feelings and Rick comforts her." –box5Angel_

 _I had this take place right after 6x11 with Michonne looking at Maggie's ultrasound. IDC what anyone says, that look was somewhat sad, and I think the ultrasound would have reminded her of Andre. I will stick by the fact that Rick already knows about Andre until I die, or until Scott Dumbass Gimple proves differently. For the sake of this story, Rick knows._

 **COMFORTING MICHONNE**

 **Rated T**

Rick left Glenn, Maggie, and Daryl downstairs to watch over Jesus and the others. Sure, Jesus had proven himself, but they didn't _know_ him, yet, and he needed watching.

Rick signaled for Michonne to follow him and she did, her sword in her arms. Together they made their way up the stairs, neither of them talking, both of them mentally exhausted.

They would be breaking into Negan's compound at dawn and killing him and all of his men.

They both checked in on Carl and Judith – both sleeping soundly – before retiring to their room. It was their first time in his room since last night and evidence of their endeavor was still sprinkled around the room. He glanced around, smiling softly, until he noticed the small frown on Michonne's face as she undressed.

"You okay?" he asked her, suddenly concerned, a small frown on his face.

She started, as if she had forgotten he was there, and that made his frown deepen.

He could see the hesitation in her face. For a brief moment, she thought about it: she thought about lying to him. The 'yes' was probably on the tip of her tongue.

But she knew him, and he knew her, and Michonne knew that Rick would know if she was lying. She had never lied to him since meeting, and she wasn't about to start now. She _couldn't_ start now, especially with what had just transpired between them.

"No," responded Michonne softly.

Rick inhaled, and for a brief moment, almost selfishly, he wondered if she didn't agree with his plan. He didn't have time to think about how unrealistic that worry was. She wasn't opposed to challenging him in front of people, but what if she felt like she shouldn't speak out in front of people now? What if she wanted to talk to him privately?

All those thoughts went out of his head as Michonne kept talking.

"I guess seeing Maggie's ultrasound has me thinking about Andre."

Her voice was soft, and filled with the quiet sadness that only a mother who'd lost a child could speak with. Rick froze as he stared at her. She rarely – if ever –talked about Andre. She had told him a few things over the time he had known her, but it'd been a few months since she'd mentioned him.

Rick didn't really know what to say. What words of comfort could he offer her? The few days he _thought_ Judith had been killed, only to find out that she was alive and well wasn't enough experience to help her through this.

Still, words spilled out of his mouth before he knew it.

"People have a way of comin' back to us," he told her softly. "It may not be in the way we want, or how we even expect, but it does happen."

Michonne stared at him for several moments, and then nodded. "I know. Some days are better than others. I still miss him."

"And you should. I don't ever want you to stop missin' him. But he's always here. I'm sure you can see him everywhere."

Michonne didn't respond. She just continued taking off her clothes and slipped into an oversized shirt, and then climbed into bed. Rick did the same and then climbed into bed next to her. He scooted over, wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm okay," said Michonne, turning to face him.

He reached out and cupped her cheek. "Are you sure?"

"Yah. It just shook me, I guess."

"Was it an easy pregnancy?"

Michonne gave him a smile. "Why, you asking for future reference?"

He thought about it, briefly, and a young child flashed in his mind: curly hair, blue eyes, dark skin, and the image both terrified him and thrilled him. "Maybe," was all he said, and Michonne dropped her smile. "After this Negan threat is taken care of."

"According to the plan, that'll be before dawn."

Rick kept quiet, as did Michonne. Neither of them wanted to talk about what they had to do, and how they were going to do it. Nor did either one of them have the courage to voice their fear that everything wasn't as it seemed.

Rick leaned in and kissed her, and she kissed him back.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I needed that."

Rick smiled. "Anytime."


	125. The Moment

_The INCREDIBLY Beautiful and Talented_ _Danai Gurira did an interview that I read, and it inspired this one-shot: "The midseason premiere where Carl gets shot in the eye, Gurira says those scenes were powerful. "That moment when he's shot – I don't know that he's been shot in the eye," Gurira explains in character. "All I know is that Ron has shot at him and Rick, and then I take Ron out. Then me and Rick realize simultaneously that Carl has been shot. It was so intense – turning around, looking at each other."_

 _[Rick] kind of looks up at [Michonne] like, 'What are we going to do?' just in shock and horror. And then I turn around and start to run. And he picks up Carl and we just know what we're going to do – we're going to run to Denise. We don't say it, we don't discuss it, we're just going to do it. "The sobs coming out of him, it was just really, really intense – and frightening. This is both [Michonne's and Rick's] worst nightmares."_

 _Seriously, I'm swooning LOL, because this is the moment that Danai has said Michonne figures out she's in love with Rick, and how much she loves Carl. She says Michonne is "panicked," and she rarely finds her that way. SO of COURSE I had to write about it. OBVIOUSLY this takes place during, "No Way Out." ENJOY._

 **THE MOMENT**

 **Rated T**

Michonne watched, almost transfixed, as Rick chopped off Jessie's arm so that Carl could break loose. She definitely had a death grip on Carl's arm, and Michonne could feel something rising in her chest that she hadn't felt in a long time.

But before it could consume her, he was free. Ron kind of jerked as Carl fell back, and Michonne took the time to look around. Most of the walkers hadn't really noticed them yet – thank God for walker guts – but they couldn't keep still for long.

She didn't know what made her look up. She could only think that she was so in tune with him that she _knew_ when something was wrong with Rick. She could _feel_ it. She turned back around just in time to see Ron pointing Rick's own gun at him.

Dread filled her stomach at the sight. Rick looked shocked, like out of everything he had to deal with right now – a herd of walkers overtaking Alexandria, Deanna's death, chopping of Jesse's arm of all things – now he had to deal with an out-of-control teenager who had a vendetta against him all because said kid's father was dead.

Michonne didn't think. She _couldn't_ think. All she _knew_ was that she was done losing people she cared about, and if Rick was _ever_ going to go out, God forbid, it was not going to be from some angsty teenager with an attitude problem holding on to the memory of his abusive father.

They didn't have _time_ for this shit, she thought.

So she took her katana and stabbed him all the way through, her face fierce, and she _kept_ the knife there for a few more seconds, just for good measure. Ron must have felt _something_ , his body certain buckled, and then the gun went off.

But Rick was fine. He was looking at her, giving her his signature nod to signal a thank you, Ron already crumbled on the ground, before they ever even knew.

And then it was just a soft, "Dad," and Carl had enough life left to slowly turn towards Rick, and they saw, they saw the way his eye was shot out, before Carl fell.

In that moment, briefly, time stopped. Just for the briefest of seconds, nothing else existed, and Michonne was back at that camp, walking into a house with a dead baby, with _her_ dead baby.

And just like that, the scene was gone.

 _Not this time_ , she told herself.

And not when Rick worked so damn hard to keep that boy alive.

Time must have temporarily stopped for him too. He looked at Carl, and then he glanced at her. There was a quick moment of panic for them both – what the hell were they going to do? What next? They had a plan, that plan was shit now, so where did they go from here? – And just like that, Rick's attention was back on Carl.

Rick bent down to pick up Carl and Michonne turned around, her sword in the air, and she started slaying walkers. None of them, not a single one, would be able to stop her right now. They could all come at once for all she cared, she'd kill every single one of them before she let anything happened to Carl.

She continued to lay a path for Rick to follow, that same feeling from earlier, when she'd seen Ron pointing the gun at rick, returning tenfold.

It'd been so, so long since she'd felt it, since she'd _allowed_ herself to feel it.

Not since that day, when she, along with the rest of her group, had returned back to that camp to see it had been overrun.

 _Panic_.

She didn't allow herself to feel panicked.

Panicking meant she _cared_.

She'd cared for a while now, but this… this was different. She knew it.

The _relief_ she felt when they reached the infirmary was unparalleled. She had never felt such a feeling, not when she'd found Andrea, or when Rick let her stay at the prison, or when she'd killed the Governor, or when she'd found Rick and Carl at that house… not even when they had seen that Alexandria _worked_.

No, she'd never been more relieved than when she reached the infirmary, slicing walkers out of the way so that Rick could go a head and enter inside, Michonne right behind him.

"Is it a gunshot?" Denise asked.

"Hand gun, close range," breathed Michonne, closing the door and immediately removing her top covered in guts.

"Please… please save him," Rick told Denise, and she could hear it, the hurt, the pain, the _fear_ in his voice.

She needed to do something, she had to do _something_. More so out of habit than anything she walked up to Rick and took off his poncho concealed in walker guts.

He didn't even seem to notice.

Still needing to do something she focused her attention to Carl. Carl, who was also someone she could consider her best friend, someone that she confided in, who confided in her, who she could reach when no one else could.

Denise was whispering to her what to do, probably understanding that she needed a distraction, and it worked, it was working for all of ten seconds, before she glanced back at Rick.

Rick, who was heading towards the door.

"What are you doing?" Michonne asked, but clearly her question fell on deaf ears. " _Rick_!"

It didn't matter. He was gone, slamming the door behind him.

 _No_!

It was a brief moment, but it she felt it nonetheless. For a quick second she thought she might lose it. She could feel her heart pounding and the room go hazy. If she hadn't been holding onto Carl, onto something _tangible_ , she might have truly lost it.

 _Panic_.

And in that second, in that very moment, she knew that panic and love were synonyms.

It was the only reason she could think of as to why she felt this way.

"Rick's out there." Michonne stated the obvious to keep herself from screaming.

"Hold on," Denise said, concentrating on Carl.

"He needs my help." The panic was so close to consuming her. She needed to be out there, helping him, defending him, _protecting_ him.

It's what she did best.

"One more stitch here," said Denise, cutting.

"But he's out there." Why couldn't she _understand_ that?

"This is his son," Denise told Michonne firmly, finally looking up. "Give me a second."

She could hear Spencer and Heath in the background mumbling about something – about what, she didn't know or care – but Michonne only had eyes for Denise.

Denise kept her eyes locked on her, who seemed to understand after all. It was like she was trying to tell Michonne that she knew, that she wasn't surprised, and that she could play hero for two lives tonight if she calmed down.

If anyone knew how she felt, it would be Denise, even if Michonne hadn't known.

Deanna had known too.

Michonne gave her a nod and looked away, still holding on to Carl. Denise went back to cutting.

"Okay, we got it," Denise said after what felt like an eternity.

Michonne didn't need telling twice. She kissed Carl's forehead, grabbed her sword, and took off out of the door.

It didn't take long to catch up to Rick, slashing walkers as she went, and then she was where she was supposed to be, fighting beside him, as his right hand man.

She had no doubt they'd make it through this moment. As doubtful as it looked now, as ridiculous as it was to take on this many walkers alone, Michonne knew that they'd survive.

They _always_ survived.

And if – _when_ – they did, she prayed she'd have the strength to let Rick now how she felt.

Because she did know, now. That's what Ron pointing that gun at Rick had done for her. It had shown her.

And no matter what came of this night, she would always be grateful for that moment.

For now, she continued to fight, so that one day soon, she could tell him.


	126. Reunited

_Girl power! A one-shot based off of that mini reunion for TF in 7x8. The hugs between Sasha and Michonne, Michonne and Maggie, etc. I needed it like I need air. Oh! And that look between Carl and Enid. It gave me feels. Plus, I like Enid when I write her, not when she's on my screen lol._

 **REUNITED**

 **Rated K**

Rick gripped Michonne's hand a little tighter. She squeezed his hand back, reassuring him, as they made their way closer to Hilltop. They could see the guards on their post, and Rick knew they could see them. Rick saw the way they called for someone, and a few moments later a familiar face peaked over the fence.

Rick heard Michonne's breath catch in her throat, and Rick felt his own heart start to pound. He glanced at her, and she sent him a quick look, their eyes locking. After a few seconds, the gate to the Hilltop opened.

To see Maggie standing there… to know she was _right there_ ….

Rick and Maggie embraced, Rick holding her tightly. "You okay?"

"I'm okay," Maggie assured him, gently pushing him away so they could look at each other. "The baby's okay." Rick nodded. "All of us." She could see the relief on his face, and she realized how much she fully missed him. How much she missed _them_.

Rick stared at her. "You were right... right from the start. You told us to get read to fight." He glanced behind him. I didn't listen, I couldn't." Gently gripping Maggie's shoulders he said, "I can now."

Maggie gave him a soft smile, but before she could say anything, Rick's eyes focused on a couple of individuals walking from behind a building. Maggie glanced behind her, saw the two figures, and smiled softly at Rick as he slowly started walking away.

At first Rick thought he was dreaming. There were so many questions he wanted to ask – _how? When? Who?_ – but none of those questions mattered as they approached each other.

Behind him Rick could heard the rest of the group moving forward. He knew Michonne and Maggie had hugged, and could hear their soft laughter.

Rick and Daryl stared at each other for a few seconds, Daryl giving him a single nod that seemed to break the damn – the two men embraced, both of them overcome with emotion.

Neither one of them saw the brief nod between Sasha and Rosita, or the warm hug between Michonne and Sasha. There was only a brief nod to Jesus from Rick before he finally backed away from Daryl, and then Tara was there, hugging Daryl.

Rick noticed soft glances and shy smiles from Enid to Carl and tucked that information away for a later date.

Rick was just starting to think that it wouldn't get any better than this moment – that it _couldn't_ get better than this moment – and then Daryl handed Rick his gun back.

For a second Rick just stared at it, and then he checked its chamber. He felt it, in that moment. He knew – _knew_ – he was doing the right thing. He felt the flush of warmth through his chest as the fight officially returned to him.

He spun around and sought out Michonne, who was already glancing at him, and already nodding.

They were back.

 _He_ was back.

And they would fight.

And they would _win_.

Together, as a group – as a _family_ – they made their way inside of Hilltop.


	127. Touch my Body

_Just wondering what Rick could have been thinking about when touching Michonne for the first time ;) Title taken from the legend that was Mariah Carey. Takes place during "The Next World."_

 **TOUCH MY BODY**

 **Rated M for smut**

Rick continued to kiss Michonne, blood pounding in his ears, his heart nearly pouncing out of his chest. Michonne ran her fingers through his curls and Rick deepened the kiss.

His calloused hands immediately slid under her shirt, making her stomach clench in anticipation. He dipped his head and started kissing on her neck. She tasted incredible, like life, and love, and liberty, all rolled into one emotion.

"Rick," she whispered. He heard her, but he didn't _hear_ her. Everything was kind of hazy with the sound of lust pumping through his ears. "Rick," said Michonne a little louder. He grunted. "We should go upstairs." He continued to kiss her as the words she spoke tried to register to his brain. " _Rick_." He finally stopped and looked at her. She slid her hands to his face. "Upstairs."

"Right," said Rick nodding, his voice husky. "Right. Yah." He climbed off of her and grabbed his gun and holster while Michonne grabbed her sword and they made their way upstairs. Neither of them knew how they decided on his room, it was where her legs carried her, and it was where he followed. She walked up to the nightstand and placed her sword down. "You sure about this?"

She slowly turned around and stared at him. "Are you?"

"Yah," he stated surely.

"Then I think you've just answered your own question." She walked up to him, her lips immediately seeking his, and he pushed her against the door, his mouth devouring hers. He wanted to taste her, needed to taste her, and he nudged her legs open with his knee.

It'd been so long….

"Clothes," she finally mumbled, and he nodded. Right. They couldn't do this with clothes on. Jesus, he couldn't even _think_. He took his gun out of the holster and put it on the table. He could hear Michonne undressing in the background and he turned, not wanting to miss it.

He dropped his holster onto the floor and started undoing his buttons, walking up to her. She lifted her shirt over her head, dropping it onto the floor, and reached out for him. He let her continue taking off his shirt while he focused on his pants. His shirt was off and fell to the floor as he slid out of his pants. Michonne worked on hers, and then suddenly they were both naked.

He didn't waste time. He figured he had the rest of his life to learn her body. Right now he just waned to cover her body and get to it.

She pulled him to her, her fingers playing with his hair at the nape of his neck, and leaned in for another kiss. He figured he'd never get tired of kissing her. It might be the only way he'd be able to breathe again: her, giving him mouth to mouth.

"Does this mean I get to touch you?" Rick whispered wickedly, a smirk in his voice.

"This doesn't really work otherwise," responded Michonne with her own smile.

"Jus' makin' sure. You did tell me to never touch you again."

Michonne looked at Rick. "I didn't like you then."

"That's okay, I didn't like you too much either." He dipped his head and nipped at her lip. "But I like you now."

She slid her hands down to cup him, forcing his body to jerk. "The feeling's mutual."

Deciding that they'd talked enough, Michonne wrapped her arms around Rick, pulling him to her so that they could kiss again. He needed to get closer, much closer, closer than he was, so he leaned into her, trying to feel every inch of her body, trying to touch her everywhere, all at the same time. He wanted to explore her, touch her, taste her, lick her, bite her, everything imaginable, and he was determined to spend the rest of the night doing so.

They moved to the bed, Michonne practically pulling Rick on top of her. He happily covered his body with hers. His kisses were like lava as he attempted to both please her and offer himself relief. She let out a soft sigh and then gasped when his tongue left a trail between her breasts and down to her stomach.

She gripped his hair with her fingers, pulling him back up to her. "Enough," she said, and then she wrapped her legs around him.

Oh. She wanted it _now_.

He shifted and aligned himself so that he was at her entrance. Time seemed to slow down until it stood still as he looked at her. He felt her breath hitch as he slowly filled her. She pressed her nails into his back, her body stiff, until she got used to him being inside of her and she left out a soft breath.

He started moving, slowly, achingly slowly, because he wanted to enjoy this. He wanted to enjoy _her_ , and what it felt like, and what it meant to be inside of her and have her quivering underneath him.

Because she _was_ quivering.

He literally saw stars. Not just stars, but the moon, too. He was in heaven, or as close to heaven as he'd ever get, at least without dying. In fact, she made him believe in things like heaven again.

He let out a moan he hadn't known he was holding in when Michonne gently started to rock her hips into his. Her thrusts countered against his, ensuring that he was getting pleasure at all times, and the pleasure became too great to handle almost immediately.

He stuttered out her name and she whispered out his, their eyes locked. It only intensified the pleasure, he thought he might explode she felt so incredible, and he found that he couldn't really catch his breath. He was lightheaded with pleasure, obsessed with touching her, his fingers light as a feather as the touched any part of her they could.

Michonne let out a loud cry and Rick was tempted to do the same. To stop himself he buried his face on her shoulder, gripping the edge of the mattress so he could penetrate deeper.

She was breathless, her grunts high pitched, and then she was speeding up, her body thrusting off of the bed, causing Rick to let out a guttural moan from deep in his throat. He'd never heard himself sound like that before. He matched her speed, suddenly making his own noises, and then her hands slid from his back to around his neck, forcing him even closer to her.

Suddenly her teeth were on his shoulder. Her jerked and she placed her forehead on his shoulder so that her her cries were muffled. He felt her clench around him and he gasped in shock, and then he himself released, a string of curses escaping from his mouth. She met his rapid strokes with rough ones of her own, riding out his orgasm and finishing another one of her own.

Panting, breathless, Michonne kissed him, hard, her hands everywhere. He thought he might pass out from pleasure, and he was too breathless to stop her. He figured if he had to go out, he didn't mind it being like this.

He could go out from having her.

Loving her.

Holding her

Touching her.

In fact, he wouldn't have it any other way.


	128. Lessons

_Just one way Richonne could have grown closer between the end of season 3 and the beginning of season 4._

 **LESSONS**

 **Rated T**

Michonne felt him long before she saw him. It was his turn to take watch, and she knew he could see her as she practiced with her katana. Sometimes she could feel him watching her. It had enough that she had gotten used to it. It didn't even bother her anymore. He wasn't judging her. Not anymore.

Things had changed between them since they'd gone back to his hometown.

Now he greeted her with a soft and rare smile, every now and then. He was annoyed with her whenever she left to try and track the Governor, but he couldn't stop her, no matter how much he frowned up whenever she decided to leave again.

That's probably what made him seek her out after his watch was over. She turned to him as he approached, intent on having the same conversation she always had with him when he tried to talk her out of leaving.

"How'd you get so good at that?" asked Rick.

Michonne arched an eyebrow. "How'd you get so good at shooting?"

Rick gave her a small smile. "Practice."

"Then I think you've got your answer, Sherriff."

Rick nodded, a grin still on his face, and then he looked away, his eyes nearly green as the yellow rays hit his blue orbs. "Why is it you've never given me lessons?" he asked her, looking at her again.

Michonne blinked at him. "Uh… _what_?"

"You came in to my cell, a few weeks ago, and told me that Carl was interested in learnin', but you never, not once, asked me if I wanted to learn."

Michonne felt a slow smile cross her face as she stared at Rick. "You've never offered to teach me how to shoot."

Rick stared at her, surprised. "I always assumed you knew how." Michonne continued to stare at him. "Would you like to learn?"

"Yeah," said Michonne, much like she had a few weeks ago when he asked her if he wanted to drive.

He nodded as he looked her over. "If I give you shootin' lessons, will you give me katana lessons?"

"On one condition." Rick arched an eyebrow. "I get to use your gun." Rick's fingers twitched against his holster. "It's only fair. You're using my sword."

Rick looked her up and down again. "I'm sure we can work somethin' out," he told her.

…

Rick took in Michonne's stance, noting she was a natural. Her stance, the way her face was set, her cop eyes.

The only problem was that she was tense.

"Relax a little," he told her softly. "You're too rigid." Michonne took a deep breath and lowered her shoulders. Rick stepped up behind her, hesitating, remembering her warning: _Don't you ever touch me again_. "May I?" She looked at him, staring into his eyes, and then gave him one single nod. He stood directly behind her, careful not to touch her too much, even with her permission.

He reached out and gently brushed his hand against hers so he could manipulate her hand and lower the gun so Michonne had a better shot. Then he placed his hands on her shoulder, forcing her to relax.

"Squeeze, don't pull," said Rick, his breath hot on her ear. He watched as Michonne did as she was told, hitting her target with ease. "You're a natural," he told her, impressed.

She grinned at him. "Would you have hired me to work for you?"

"I'd have made you my partner," Rick admitted. She seemed surprised by the admission.

"Well let's see if I'd make you _my_ partner. It's time for your first lesson with my katana."

"Should I be nervous?"

Michonne laughed. "Not if you're as good with my sword as you are with your gun. I have faith in you." Rick nodded and looked at her. She handed him his gun and he grabbed it, their fingers brushing. He stared at the gun for a few moments, lost in thought. "Still thinking about putting it away?"

Rick looked up at her. "Yah, I am. You think I should?" He wasn't sure why he was asking. It wasn't like she'd have the ability to change his mind. For some reason he tended to seek out her approval, though.

"I think you have to do whatever it is you think you have to do in order to be a good father, and no one can fault you for that."

"No one thinks I should," shifted Rick, glancing up at her. "They want me to have my gun on me, especially with the Governor out there."

"I'm going out there to make sure he doesn't get this place. And like I said, whatever decisions you have to make in regards to Carl and Judith, is on you." Michonne motioned for him to follow her and they made their way outside.

…

Michonne handed Rick her sword. He took it and stared at it with reverence.

"I never realized what a beauty she was," Rick commented.

"That's because I actually handed it to you for once, as opposed to you taking it from me."

Rick sent her a glance. "I guess that does make a difference."

"It makes all the difference,' smiled Michonne. "First thing first: she is to be respected, and revered. You can tell a lot about a man by the way he holds a sword."

Rick arched an eyebrow. "That right?" Michonne nodded. "So what does the way I hold it say about me?"

"That you're a good lover." Rick dropped the sword and Michonne threw her head back and laughed. "You're blushing."

"You're teasin' me." Rick bent down and grabbed the sword, his face red.

"The shy Sherriff from the small town act doesn't full me. You should treat the sword the way you would about someone you care about. You have to grip her in a way that's comfortable for you. This'll be your art form."

"So I can't jus' copy what you do?"

"You're taller and stronger than me. I doubt the way I handle her will work for you. You have to learn to adjust. She's unique. She's not like anything you've ever had before. She'll cater to you and be good to you once you learn her. It's all in the technique."

"If this is how you taught Carl I'll never have to have the sex talk with him."

Michonne laughed again. "Carl still has a sense of innocence about him, even with everything that's happened."

Rick stiffened slightly, his grip tightening around the sword. "Maybe we should continue this tomorrow."

"We can't. I'm… gonna go out looking for him again tomorrow."

Rick gritted his teeth. "I thought Daryl said the trail was goin' cold."

"He killed Andrea." Rick looked away. "I will not rest until I find him."

"Well, I guess you're gonna need this, then." He handed her sword back to her.

Michonne took her sword, staring at him, but he wouldn't meet her eye. "Relax. I'll be back in a little while. I'll take a couple of guns with me this time. After all, I know how to shoot now."

She hoped it'd lighten the mood, but it didn't. He stared at her, his gaze suddenly tense. "You'll come back?"

Michonne's gaze softened. "I'll come back," she assured him.

Rick eyed her and then nodded. "You make sure you pack enough supplies, and get some rest."

"I will."

"Thanks for the lesson," said Rick, already walking away from her.

He didn't want her to go, she realized. She had already known that, but for the first time, she cared about the fact that he wanted her to stay.

She was one of them, he had told her, and that meant something to him. It meant that he now worried about her.

She placed her sword back in its case. All the more reason for her to leave.


	129. Already There

_Takes place during 6x10._

 **ALREADY THERE**

 **Rated T**

Michonne felt the way Rick's fingers brushed against hers, and her breath caught in her throat. For a brief moment she stared at their hands, and then she slowly turned towards Rick. He was already staring at her, and she knew that he was already aware of what was happening. How long had he known, and how long had she been oblivious?

The two of them… they had been on the same page for a long while now. Long gone were the days where he didn't trust her, and he wanted her gone, out of the prison. That ship had sailed. Now they were partners, best friends, confidants.

They were nothing without each other, yet up until now, she had never really seen it.

She hadn't _let_ herself see it.

How many times had she gone to bed, too afraid to let her mind wander? She would push herself until she was delirious with exhaustion so that by the time she showered and went to bed, she would instantly fall asleep.

She refused to allow herself to think.

Thinking led to remembering, and lately she had been remembering things like her conversation with David. "It was early on. Aaron found me. I was alone, lost everything... everyone. Myself, I- I wasn't crazy. I just gave up on being someone, an actual person. Know what I mean?" She had known. Boy, had she known. "We found Betsy on the way back to the community. She still saw me. After I thought I was dead and gone, she was my first friend. Then she was more. She made me more. Even better than how I used to be."

Everything had gone to hell after that, and was it wrong to be grateful for that? Was it wrong that they had been met with so many problems that she had never really had time to dwell on that?

Thinking led her to think remember things like what Deanna had asked her: " _What is it you want for you_?" It had been Deanna's last moment of advice: " _Figure it out_." And she thought she had, she really had. What she wanted was Carl to be okay, and Carl was doing _fine_ , which meant Rick was doing fine, and as long as Rick and Carl and Judith were fine, then she was fine, and that's all she wanted.

But was it? _Was_ it? Lately she'd been wanting more. She'd been antsy these past few months. She'd taken to waiting up for Rick. She looked forward to those nights on the couch, of them talking about their day, and sometimes, before she could stop her mind from wandering, she felt it was all so _domestic_ and lovely….

And it had remembering, and wondering about that time Sasha stated, "It worked out for you." _What_ had worked out for her? What exactly had Sasha meant? That Michonne had found friendship? Had found happiness? Had found _family_?

The same family that Spencer reminded her that she had back here, in this place. Which made her think about Deanna and what it is she wanted for Michonne, all over again.

She'd purposely kept her mind preoccupied on Carl bating Deanna. If she was being real and honest with herself, she had known all along what he had been doing, but she'd pushed the thought away, because knowing what he was doing would mean that she wouldn't have anything to think about, which meant her mind would be empty, and lately every time her mind was empty she was thinking about Rick.

She just didn't know _why_.

And then Carl kicked down the door. Her boy, the boy who was quickly turning into a man, had confessed to her with all the confidence in the world that were she ever to die, he'd do the same thing for her that Spencer had done for his own mother.

And now, here Rick was, having proven she'd been on his mind all day, the same way he'd been on hers, bringing her a pack of mints because he couldn't get her any toothpaste.

It _had_ worked out for her, and she _had_ known, all along, what she had wanted, and she had understood David and Spencer more than she thought.

It was already there. It always had been.

They hadn't locked eyes long, yet all those thoughts flew through her mind, so by the time that their lips connected, she was more than ready: she was willing.


	130. Color of Love

_Prompt—_ _" I know in TWD universe there's not a lot of emphasis placed on race, but as a dark-skinned Black woman I know how huge of a barrier DG has broken by being a dark-skinned Black woman whose love interest is white. You asked for a few A/Us. What about one where race plays a factor and race barriers are broken? Not sure if I'm making sense... I juts thought it'd be nice to read something about interracial relationships. Does that make sense?" –Guest._

 _I actually LOVED this. I HOPE I understood what you meant. Here's a series of short one-shots where race plays a factor._

 _Title comes from Boyz II Men._

 **THE COLOR OF LOVE**

 **Rated T**

Rick felt the bus jerk to a stop and held in a sigh. Only five more stops to go, he thought to himself. He shifted in his seat as the people got on the bus: three people, all of the women – one was an older white woman, who sat in the empty seat up front; the other one was a young girl carrying a large backpack; and the last was a Black woman, looking tired, a bag of groceries in her hand, and her shirt barely covering her very round stomach.

He saw the way her eyes swept the bus, taking special care to ensure she didn't make eye contact with anyone for too long. She was the only Black woman on the bus, and the only seat available was next to him. Their eyes locked for a moment – blue against the darkest brown – and he sent her a gentle nod to let her know he was okay with her sitting next to him.

He grabbed his King County Sherriff's hat off of the seat and then moved over a little to give her some room, and she gave him a soft, genuine smile, her eyes briefly meeting his again, before she looked away, like she'd probably been trained to do since she was a little girl.

They rode in silence for several moments, Rick glancing at the woman out of the corner of his eye. She was stunning, he realized, and boy did she smell _good_. He watched as she rubbed her baby bump, the bag of groceries between her legs.

"When are you due?" he asked her.

She jumped and gave him a startled look, clearly surprised that he was talking to her – and he supposed she had every reason to be surprised. Their kind didn't really mix all that often.

"In about a month," said the woman, and this time it was his turn to be surprised: her voice was soft, and lovelier than he had thought.

"What do you hope you have?"

The woman shrugged. "Long as the baby is healthy, we don't care."

"I have one of my own," he admitted. "He's 'bout eight now. Scariest and best moment of my life." She looked at him, quizzically, and he gave her a smile. "Rick," he told her.

She stared at him, searching his eyes for a few minutes, before finally saying, quietly, "Michonne."

He smiled at her, and she gave him another soft smile. He would have asked more about the child she was carrying, except the bus reached its next stop. A loan young woman, with bright blonde hair, walked on, probably about eighteen, wearing a uniform, and her eyes looked around, eventually resting on Michonne.

She let out a soft sigh, and immediately started reaching for her grocery bag. After a few seconds she attempted to get up. The blonde walked up to them, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Sorry," whispered Michonne, her eyes low.

She was just about to move when Rick reached out and touched her. She jerked, almost violently.

"Relax," Rick said. "Here. You can have my seat."

She stared at him as if he had three heads, and she wasn't the only one.

"You don't have to get up for _her_ ," the blonde girl said. Rick noticed she wore a nametag that read JESSIE.

"She's pregnant, and she's got a bag full of groceries. It's the least I could do." Rick's voice was cold as he stared at the girl, and he moved aside so that Michonne could sit in his seat and so that the blonde girl could sit down. Rick could feel the stares of the rest of the people on him, but he didn't care.

It was stupid. The whole thing was _stupid_.

Rick's eyes locked with the bus driver's, who was frowning. He tilted his head to the side, and the bus driver eventually pulled away.

After three more stops Rick finally reached his destination. He made his way to the front of the bus, placing his hat on his head, and started walking down the steps. At the last minute he looked back, and was unsurprised to find Michonne staring back at him.

Blue eyes met brown ones, and he touched the tip of his hat and nodded at her.

She couldn't nod back. He couldn't imagine the trouble she might get in for doing such a thing.

But he certainly saw the faint smile on her face as he stepped off the bus.

…

It was an unusual first day of school; the atmosphere was tense, the morale low. Lunchtime should have brought immense relief, but it didn't. The cafeteria was mostly silent, save for the scattered whispers.

Despite the fact that it was the first day of school for everyone, it was certainly an extremely difficult first day for one student in particular.

Rick caught his first glimpse of her while he was in line to get his food. The two people behind him were discussing the fact that they'd never thought there would be anything worse than school lunch.

"And then they let _her_ in," snickered the guy. Rick looked behind him, giving them a dirty look, but the two of them didn't even seem to notice. Rick glanced at the end of the line, where she had to wait for the rest of the students – the rest of the _white_ students – to get their food first.

Rick sat at his normal table, in his normal seat, with his normal friends, discussing their every day, normal, boring lives.

At least his friends were decent enough to keep quiet about the elephant in the room.

Rick's eyes followed the new girl as she looked for a place to sit. He could hear some of the whispers as she passed, which meant _she_ could certainly hear them too.

Rick admired the way she kept her head held high, her shoulders back, her chin up. He thought her resolve might have started to slip as she realized no one was going to let her sit with them.

In the end she stood in the middle of the cafeteria with nowhere to go.

So she plopped down in the middle of the floor and started eating.

"We should invite her to sit with us," Rick stated.

"Are you crazy, man?" asked his best friend, Shane. "That would put all of us in unnecessary danger."

Rick looked at Lori, who shook her head. "He's right, Rick. We can't save everybody."

So Rick stood up, grabbing his own tray, and headed towards her. He could hear the way the cafeteria started to silence. He ignored Lori and Shane's frantic whispers of his name.

"Anyone sittin' here?" he asked her. She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes meeting his bright blue ones. She stared at him for a few seconds, then briefly looked around, and then locked eyes with him again.

"No," she finally replied, her voice gentle.

Rick sat down next to her. "I'm Rick." He held out his hand.

She looked at his hand for a long time, and then slowly met his gaze again. Her eyes searched his for several seconds before she finally reached out and took his hand.

He nearly dropped her hand at the electric shock he felt at her touch. If she felt anything she didn't show it; she just sent him a small smile and said,

"I'm Michonne. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He stared at her, really stared at her, and flushed as his stomach made a funny motion. "Trust me, the pleasure's all mine," he told her.

She sent him another smile that had his stomach swooping all over again.

…

The knock on his front door was urgent, but not at all unexpected. Rick made his way to the back door, opened it, and immediately moved aside.

"I only have one for you tonight," the older man said.

"One? We were expectin' a family," stated Rick.

"I know, but things went bad. It happens in our line of work. You of all people know that." Rick stiffened but nodded. "It's a long trek from the South to the North. I'm just happy she pulled through. She'll be up in a minute." Hershel looked around, and Rick noted the blood on his shirt. "Can you clear your table off?"

"You're bleedin'," Rick said.

"It ain't my blood. Help me clear the table off, Rick."

"How bad is she hurt?"

"Gunshot wound to her leg, but Maggie fixed her up pretty good. I just wanna make sure she did a good job before I go."

Rick helped Hershel clear his table until Maggie came in, practically carrying an unconscious woman. Rick immediately left to help Maggie out, and together they placed the woman on the table.

Rick watched in silence as Hershel attempted to fix her leg. "What happened?" he asked.

"What else? Slave catchers. They definitely wanted her, dead or alive. One of 'em shot her. We killed him, but barely escaped with our own lives. It had to be done, though."

The woman moaned and Rick approached her.

Despite the fact that she'd been shot, her dark orbs eyes were clear, and alert. At the sight of him she jerked back, her hands immediately reaching for something.

"She keeps a small pocket knife," Maggie stated, holding her down. "I think she's lookin' for it."

"Calm down," stated Hershel. "I'm jus' trying to fix your leg."

The woman either didn't hear or didn't understand. She kept trying to get out of Maggie's grip.

Rick stepped forward. "Hey. _Hey_. We're not gonna hurt you." He wasn't sure what it was about him that the woman stilling, but she stared at him, their eyes locked for several moments. "I know you've seen a lot of different faces over the past several weeks. But we're here to help. Hershel's gonna take a look at that leg of yours." Rick reached over, slowly, into her pocket, grabbing the small knife. "I'll keep this safe, okay?" He put it in his pocket. "You wanna tell me your name?" She continued to stare at him, her eyes unreadable. He matched her stare, willing her to trust him, if even more a minute. "Hey… you wanna tell me your name?"

She still didn't answer, but at least she stayed still long enough for Hershel to really look at her leg.

"We're behind schedule," stated Hershel, glancing at his pocket watch. "I hate to just leave you like this—"

"We'll be fine," Rick said, nodding.

"Give her one of these pills before she goes to sleep, and another when she wakes up in the morning. She'll be in a lot of pain once her adrenaline comes down."

Rick nodded, taking the medicine. "I'll see you two soon." Maggie sent him a soft smile and headed to the door. Rick followed behind Hershel.

"Listen," Hershel said quietly. "She lost her boy, and her husband. I don't know if its sunk in yet, or what, but tell her the same thing I told you after Lori died: even when things break, they can still grow. She made it. There's a reason for that. You'll have to teach her to just survive somehow."

Rick nodded and closed the door, locking it behind him. He turned back to the woman, who was still staring at him, almost warily.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. You're safe now. I'm the least likely place anyone will ever look for you. If you've made it to me, you'll get to freedom."

"Who _are_ you?" she finally asked.

"I'm Rick."

She stared at him, as if trying to see through him. "Grimes?" He nodded, once. She continued to look at him, and he stared back. "They say the next world needs you. Your reputation supersedes you."

"I do what I have to, however I have to."

"You gon' get me to Moses?"

He gave her a small grin. "Miss Tubman will be here in three weeks." He paused. " _Now_ do you wanna tell me your name?"

She stared at him for a long time, the silence stretching. "Michonne," she admitted after several moments.

"You hungry, Michonne?" She probably wouldn't have answered, but her stomach gave her away. He chuckled. "Come on in the kitchen. I'll have Carol heat you somethin' up. She'll show you where to wash up and where you'll sleep after you finish eatin'."

Rick stood next to Michonne in an attempt to help her.

"How many of us you housin'?"

"We almost got a house full. We got another woman, maybe a little younger than you, named Sasha, and her husband, Bob. Her brother, Tyreese, is here also. We got another family, a guy by the name of Morgan, and his wife and son. You'll meet them all tomorrow." By now they had reached the kitchen, and Michonne found herself staring at an older woman with grey hair. "Hey, Carol. This is Michonne."

"Evening, Michonne. Sit on down, your food's almost ready."

Michonne looked at Rick, who nodded.

At that moment a baby started crying. Michonne froze.

"That'll be Judith. I'll go and get her before she wakes the entire house." And just like that, Rick was gone.

Michonne cringed, her body rigid, until Rick presumably grabbed her and the baby was silenced. "Does she always cry like that?" Michonne asked Carol.

"Only when she's awake," grinned Carol, but Michonne didn't smile back. She ate in silence, and it didn't take long for her to finish her plate. Afterwards Carol walked her upstairs to the last bedroom. Before she was shown in her room, Rick walked out of the room across the hall.

"Judith's fallen back asleep," he told Carol.

"I was just showing Michonne her bed," Carol responded.

"Go ahead and go to bed. I know you have an early morning tomorrow."

Carol nodded. "Goodnight. See you both in the morning." She headed back downstairs, and Michonne stared at Rick.

"Go ahead and make yourself at home. There should be warm water for a bath, and a nightgown on your bed."

"Thank you," Michonne said softly, staring into those dark blue eyes.

He nodded. "Welcome to the Underground."


	131. For Them

_I wanted to elaborate on the Carl/Michonne moment in "The Next World" where Carl tells her that he'd put her down if she ever Turned._

 **DOING IT FOR THEM**

 **Rated T**

Michonne stepped onto her porch and stared at Carl and Judith. Judith pointed to her and tried to say something – she'd be talking any minute now, Michonne knew – and the little girl grunted out something that sounded like her name.

"Hey," Michonne said casually.

"Hey," responded Carl.

Michonne stared at him. "You have a good day?"

Carl paused for a moment before responding. "I guess so." He started to get up. "I'm gonna take her in." He tried to walk passed her when Michonne stopped him.

"Carl." Her voice held a little bit of warning in it, enough for him to know that she knew. She'd probably seen him out in the woods. She put her katana down as he faced her, trying to figure out how to say what she needed to say and let him know that she was serious without overstepping her boundaries. She wasn't his mother, but she felt protective of him. "I saw what you did with Deanna."

Carl looked away but walked towards her so that he was standing in front of Michonne. "Yah."

The way he so nonchalantly responded made Michonne realize he didn't even feel bad about it. "You should have left her, or killed her."

"No," disagreed Carl. "That's stupid."

Michonne glared at him. "What's _stupid_ is you being out there when you don't have to."

"You did the same thing," Carl argued. "You and Spencer didn't have to go out there, but you did."

"That's different."

"It's not," said Carl firmly. "I wasn't gonna leave her out there like that. You wouldn't." Michonne started to speak, but Carl continued. "You _wouldn't_. I know it. I couldn't kill her—"

"Why not?" Michonne interrupted.

"Because," sighed Carl.

"You could have killed her."

"I couldn't. I wouldn't—"

"Do you think this is some sort of game out there? Did you think that—"

" _No_."

"Then _why_?" She stared at him, trying to figure out why he would risk himself like that, after his father trusted him to be responsible, after _she_ trusted him to do the right thing.

"Because it should be someone who loved her, someone who's family, and I'd… I'd do it for you."

Michonne softened, understanding flooding through her. Of course he would. Of course this sweet, sweet boy – teenager – would do something like that for her, just like he had had to do for his own mother.

She could feel the emotions threatening to take over. She had been trying to keep everything at bay. She had taken special care to _not_ think about what Deanna had asked her all those weeks ago, and to be reminded today, with being confronted with Deanna as a walker, almost like her being a ghost, was unfair.

She wasn't _ready_. At least she didn't think she was. She took special care to make sure that she kept herself from seeing Rick any differently. He was her best friend, someone she could depend on. She'd give her life for him.

But she wasn't ready to think about anything more.

Though now it was obvious that that wasn't the case. Because she would do it for Carl, the same way she would do it for Rick. She knew that now.

She did have a life here. That's basically what Spencer was trying to tell her. He was just confirming what she had refused to admit to herself: she had _home_ here, because of Rick, and Carl, and Judith.

They were home.

They had been home for a long time.

" _So what's the plan? This place… is it home, or just a stop along the way?"_ That question posed seemed so long ago, but Rick and Carl had been home since she made the decision to follow their footprints on those tracks.

She had told Spencer that his mother had asked her what it was she wanted for her whole life, and she had told Spencer that she was working up to it, but she knew. Deep down she knew.

She wanted _this_.

She _deserved_ this.

They all did.

They had all lost so much that they deserved the desire to want a little piece of normal.

Michonne continued to stare at Carl.

"I would," he said softly.

"Come here," said Michonne even more softly, and she embraced him, Judith between them. "Me too," she said, and she meant it.

She'd do it for them, too.


	132. Paying Respect

_So forgive me but it seems HIGHLY unrealistic that Rick, Carl, and Michonne didn't help with burying Denise. I get we can't have EVERY SINGLE MOMENT on screen, but Scott Gimple does a GREAT job of making it seem like TF doesn't care about each other._

 _Did anyone else wonder where tf Father Gabriel was while Daryl was burying Denise? What was the point of making an effort to show he was still a priest if you weren't gonna use him? Just so he could quote a scripture before killing a savior? Blah._

 _Like I REFUSE to believe that Michonne and Carol have never, ever had ONE discussion about losing a child that turned into a walker. Like not once? Nobody said nothing? Carol didn't recognize the same kind of pain in Michonne, and vice versa? Forgive me for not buying it._

 _SO with that said, I thought I'd write a missing scene in "Twice as Far" to show how/why Daryl and Carol were burying Denise alone. This will also explain why Carol wasn't helping Daryl LOL._

 **PAYING RESPECT**

 **Rated T**

Michonne and Rick were downstairs, playing with Judith. The day had started off normal enough. Judith was intent on learning how to crawl today, and Michonne and Rick were determined to experience this moment together.

It was something they'd never thought they'd have: a time, and a place, to watch a baby crawl around.

She was trying so hard, and it made Michonne laugh. She got up and walked over to Judith, straightening up the baby blanket she kept messing up in her attempt to crawl away.

She might have tried to encourage Judith, holding her arms out, hoping that that would be what Judith needed to start crawling, but Abe suddenly burst in.

Just a single syllable word, and everything stopped.

"Rick." Michonne looked up, saw the look on Abe's face, and her heart relocated down to her stomach.

Rick stood up. "What is it?"

Abe hesitated and then spoke, almost like a soldier giving a report. "Eugene, myself, Daryl, Rosita, and Denise were attacked outside the walls today. Eugene's been shot, and Denise is dead."

Rick froze and Michonne slowly stood up.

"What happened?" asked Michonne.

"I don't really know. Eugene and I found a compound where he thought he could make bullets, we got into a fight, and I pretended to leave. I really jus' hid and followed behind him. He thinks he's ready for this world, I disagree. He ended up bein' captured by a group, and said group ran into Daryl, Rosita, and Denise. Denise was shot dead and the bullet jus' grazed Eugene.

"Where are they?" Rick asked, already grabbing his gun.

"In the infirmary."

Rick nodded. "I want this place locked down. Who's on watch?"

"Carol."

Rick nodded. "I'll be there in a minute, I want to alert everyone first."

Abraham nodded and headed back to the infirmary.

Rick turned to Michonne. "I want you to go and get Carl, and bring him back here. We need to prepare."

"You go and get Glenn and Maggie," Michonne said. "I'll alert those who need to know: Father Gabriel, Morgan, whoever else I see."

"We'll meet back up at the infirmary."

"Deal." Michonne bent down and grabbed Judith, her sword on her back. She headed off to Enid's, where she knew Carl was, her steps quick, her heart pounding.

She didn't knock like she normally might have. Carl immediately stood up and Enid followed suit.

"What's wrong?" asked Carl.

"You need to come with me," was all Michonne said, and her tone left no room for argument. Carl nodded and Michonne turned to Enid. "You are to stay here, do I make myself clear?"

Enid nodded and Carl and Michonne left. "What's going on?" Carl asked again.

Michonne stopped. She wanted to protect him, but he wasn't a kid, and she had never lied to him. She wouldn't start now. "Abraham, Eugene, Daryl, Rosita, and Denise were attacked," stated Michonne. "Denise is dead, and Eugene's been shot."

Carl paused for a moment. "Denise is dead?"

Michonne sighed. "Yah."

She saw it, the way he immediately shut down all of his emotions. His face literally became blank.

"I need you to take Judith and keep her safe. I have to go meet your dad in the infirmary." Carl stayed silent for a few moments. "Carl."

"Yah, okay." He grabbed Judith and started to head towards the house. Michonne kept walking towards the church.

…

Rick was a few feet away from the infirmary when he noticed Daryl walking, bow in hand. "Daryl," Rick called. Daryl continued to walk so Rick changed directions. " _Daryl_ ," called Rick again.

Daryl turned. "What, man?"

"What do you think you're doin'?" asked Rick.

"I'm gonna go get her body."

"Excuse me?"

"I ain't stutter."

"You're goin', even with those people out there?"

"You damn right."

"And what if you get killed?"

"Not gonna happen."

"Daryl—"

"It ain't gon' happen, Rick. I dare one of 'em to come up on me right now. I _dare_ 'em."

Rick could feel it, the way all of it could go out of control, just like that.

"Daryl, we need you to stay. _I_ need you, to _stay_."

He didn't even think about. He didn't hesitate. "I'm goin'. And I'll be back. She ain't far, man, and those people ran off. They ain't at the scene of the crime no more. I'ma bring her home. She deserves that."

"We can't help her anymore."

"She saved Carl's life," snapped Daryl, and Rick stilled. "I'm goin' and tryin' to stop me is jus' waistin' time. You should go check on Eugene."

And with that, Daryl turned and walked away, heading towards the gate, Rick knowing he couldn't stop him.

When he got to the infirmary Michonne was there.

"Where's Daryl?" she asked.

"Goin' to get Denise's body." He looked around. "Where'd Abraham go?"

"I don't know," sighed Rosita. "He left before Daryl did."

"We need to protect this place," Rick said, and Rosita nodded. "You know what to do."

"Yah, I do." Rosita sent one last look to Eugene and disappeared.

"They knew about this place," Eugene said. "They knew."

"I know. I don't want you to worry. We'll protect this place. Nothin's gonna happen to it."

Eugene stared at Rick. "How do you know?"

It was Michonne who spoke. "Because they don't know who the hell we are, or what the hell we're capable of. We have more to lose, so we fight harder."

Eugene stared at Michonne and then nodded. "We're fighters now. All of us."

"Yes we are," agreed Rick. "And we'll defend this place as long as it's standing."

…

"We got a car!" Spencer shouted from the guard post. He put the gun up to his eye. "It's Daryl."

Rick breathed one huge sigh of relief when Daryl drove back through the gates. Rosita let him in and Daryl stopped the car. Rick and Michonne walked up to the car but before they could reach it he got out, swinging his door open, and immediately went to the back seat.

Together Rick and Daryl carried Denise to the burial site, Michonne behind them. The news hadn't taken long to spread, so as they walked people started to stand on their porches.

Carol approached them just as they reached the grave site. Careful not to step on any of the other graves, Rick and Daryl sat her down. Rick started grabbing the shovels he'd placed there and started digging.

"No," Daryl said to Rick. "I need to do this on my own."

"You aren't the only one who cared about her," said Michonne softly.

"She saved Carl's life, remember?" Rick asked.

"And you all can have your moment," Daryl reassured them. "But I need to do this part myself."

Rick would have argued but he met Michonne's gaze. She shook her head and he sighed. "All right." Everyone left, except for Carol, who stayed with Daryl because she could. "It's like Merle all over again," Rick said quietly.

"Yah, I haven't seen him this angry since then."

Rick took another deep breath. "We'll have a ceremony a little later on. We'll get Father Gabriel and Carl and… we'll pay our respects."

Michonne nodded. "Okay. And after?"

Rick stared at her. "Afterwards, we'll prepare for war."

Michonne stared back at him and then nodded.

Love first, hate later.


	133. Beautiful Surprise

_Another "Sherriff/Counselor" Universe story, because it's nice to see Richonne normal for once LOL._

 _Title taken from the artist Tamia._

 **BEAUTIFUL SURPRISE**

 **Rated M for smut**

Rick stepped through the door, taking off his jacket and scarf and leaving his suitcase by the door. The house was quiet, he noted, which meant everyone was probably asleep. It wasn't that late, so he had probably only just missed everyone going off to bed. He could still smell dinner.

Rick quietly made his way upstairs to his bedroom. His door was slightly open and he could make out the fireplace blazing and the television playing silently. Michonne was curled up, fast asleep, Andre and Judith next to her.

She was such a softie. They had agreed that together they would not co-parent. Maybe he should have been more specific. Not for the first time Rick came to the conclusion that Michonne was a lawyer in her previous life.

He approached the bed and stood there for several moments, just looking at his family: his wife, who was still so beautiful, even in her sleep; his daughter, who wouldn't stop growing to save her life, and his son, literally one of the smartest and most handsome boys Rick had ever known.

He loved them more than life itself.

He placed a few items down on the nightstand and then bent down and scooped up Judith, careful not to wake Judith or Michonne. She was snoring softly, something she never did, so Rick knew she was exhausted. A whole week without him home would do that. He carried Judith to her own room and placed her inside her bed. Then he did the exact same thing for Andre.

Before heading back to his own room he checked in on Carl, who was sound asleep, lying on his back, his hand over his eyes. Rick smiled fondly at his oldest boy and stepped into his room. Michonne must have made him clean it recently. Rick ruffled Carl's hair, causing the boy to stir a little, but he didn't wake up. Rick quietly made his exit and headed back to his room.

He stared at Michonne as he undressed, taking in the way she was sleeping in his shirt, on his side of the bed, on his pillow. Her side of the bed remained untouched. He chuckled quietly, shaking his head, and then climbed into the tiny spot that Andre and Judith had just left. Rick gently kissed Michonne until she moaned softly.

"Rick," she whispered, her eyes fluttering opened.

"In the flesh," responded Rick with a grin.

He'd expected some sort of playful banter – some joking discussion of him not being allowed to be there because her husband could walk in at any minute. He got none of that. Instead Michonne buried her face in his chest, clearly overcome with emotions.

"Hey now," he whispered, pulling her closer. "What is it?"

"Nothing," said Michonne. "I've just missed you, is all. You weren't supposed to be back until late next week."

"I know, but a week's a long time away from home, so I came back early." He pushed her away to get a good look at her. She gave him a smile, blinking back her tears, and kissed him, fiercely. "I take it you missed me to then?"

"And then some," Michonne admitted.

"Why don't you show me?" Rick's voice was already huskier than it had been a few seconds ago. Michonne smiled and kissed him, immediately climbing on top of him. Rick placed his hands on her hip, lifting her – his – shirt and slipped his fingers in between her legs. Michonne gasped and jerked her hips to the rhythm of his fingers. He was gentle and teasing, and her own thrusts were lazy, yet it still didn't take long before she let out a guttural moan as he brought her to climax. She slid out of her underwear and he pulled his shirt over her head. He barely had the shirt out of his hands before she sunk down on him.

He'd never known sex could feel so different, every single time, with the same woman. He tended to find something new that he admired about her, and he'd been sleeping with her for five years.

Rick slid his hands up her body, gripping her hips and then sliding up to her breasts, squeezing, and then continued up to her neck to bring her face down so he could kiss her. Their tongues battled for domination and then Michonne shifted and started sucking on his bottom lip, all the while urgently thrusting.

" _Fuck_ , 'Chonne," he grunted. She came, her body doing the impossible. She slowed down, breathing hard, and then turned around without ever getting off of him, so that her back was facing him. He took his fingers and scratched at her back. She moaned and reached for his ankles. Rick reached around to grip her breasts and met her eager thrusts with hard ones of his own. Pretty soon they were both crying out and releasing.

Michonne sighed and fell back against Rick. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist. He forced them on their sides and wrapped his arms tightly around her, breathing her in.

"I missed you," said Rick.

"I can't believe you're home early," Michonne said, turning around to face him. "The kids will be so happy to see you."

"Just them?"

"I thought I just showed you how happy I am to see you." She slid her fingers through his hair. "I'm happy you're home. You being here early was a beautiful surprise." Her eye caught a bouquet of flowers on the nightstand. "What is that?"

"It was your other surprise," stated Rick, glancing at the flowers. "I was hopin' you were still up."

"I love you," Michonne said softly, staring at him tenderly.

"Love you more." He kissed her again, this time climbing on top of her.

It had been a long week, and now it was going to be a long night.


	134. Still Standing

_Because EVERYONE, including me, wants to know WTF happened after the scene fades to black when Richonne_ is in that jail cell. I'm guessing it was some Richonne loving ;) Missing scene from 7x8.

 **STILL STANDING**

 **Rated M for love making**

Rick continued looking at the drawing, even as he heard the door open. It wasn't until he sensed her – _her_ – presence that he looked up. For a moment, he paused. Was she actually _real_? Was she actually back, and really in front of him?

He shakily stood up as he looked her over. She was alive, she was fine, she was _breathing_.

"Carl told me you were in here," she told him, and he could tell she was being somewhat timid.

Did she expect him to be mad at her for not being there? Did she think he was angry because she had left the gates? Any feelings he might have felt before were replaced with immense relief the minute she stood in front of him.

He approached her and then wrapped her in a hug, intent on holding her until morning, when after only a few seconds, she gently pushed him away.

"I…" Michonne sighed as she looked at him. "I found what I was looking for." She stared at Rick, briefly wondering if this is how he felt all those weeks ago confessing his sins about hiding guns and wanting to take over Alexandria. "I wanted to go with you and Aaron, but I couldn't." She shook her head, softly, as tears welled in her eyes. "I had to go my way. But when I found it..." Michonne chuckled softly, briefly looking away. "I realized that... I didn't want it to be my way. I wanted it to be ours – me and you." Rick felt himself start to melt at her words. Did she know how badly he needed to hear them? How much they _meant_?

"There are more of them, even more than we thought. We are outnumbered. It's not even close. But that doesn't change the way that I feel, because it doesn't change the way that things are. We're still alive, Rick. So much has happened, so much that we shouldn't have lived through. And... and in spite of it or maybe because of it, we did. We're still here, the two of us." Rick felt his own eyes brim with tears as her words started to sink in. "We're still standing, and we're gonna keep standing. So, what do we do with that? How do we make that mean something? We're the ones who get things done. You said that." Her finger on his chest burned We're the ones who live. That's why we have to fight - not for us, but for Judith, for Carl, for Alexandria, for the Hilltop - for all of us. We can fight them, Rick. We can find a way to beat them. We can do this. But... But... Only if... _we_ do this."

Rick looked down, attempting to get his own emotions under control, even as Michonne threatened to become undone. "Yeah, I know that now." He stepped closer to her. "I know that now." He saw the relief on her face and cupped her cheek, his lips covering hers.

The kiss was everything he needed it to be, and opened the floodgates of emotions that he had been trying so incredibly desperately to hold in. There hadn't been a lot of time for _this_ since the entire world had gone to hell. They'd barely _hugged_ , let alone _kissed_ or had time for anything deeper than that.

Not that they had been on the same page for this past week to do any of those things anyways.

But now? Now, none of that mattered. He was kissing her, and she was kissing him, and they were kissing like never before, her hands running through his dark curls, his hands tugging on her 'locs.

Rick picked her up for a few seconds, and then the two of them broke apart, both of them breathing heavily.

One look, and it was all it took.

He backed her against the wall, suddenly desperate for her. It felt like _months_ since the last time he'd had her. He knew it hadn't been that long, but it seemed like it, and suddenly he couldn't get to her fast enough.

She appeared to be just as anxious. She was tugging at his shirt while he was tugging at her pants and really if he didn't get to her _right now_ surely he would explode.

He was mad for her, craved her like he craved air. He certainly needed her as much as he needed oxygen, and he'd prove it to her if he could just _get her damn pants off_.

For a brief moment he was blind with lust, and didn't come back to his senses until he heard Michonne gasp. Somehow, someway, his pants were down and one of Michonne's legs was around his waist, and both of them were jerking, meeting each other's thrusts with a desire neither of them had felt before.

Neither of them lasted very long, and when it was all over Rick found his face buried in her neck, his body pressed against hers, breathing deeply.

He could feel her heartbeat against his, and he was sure she could feel his heartbeat against her.

Still beating.

Proof that they were still standing.

After several moments they eventually put their clothes back on. When they were fully dressed again Rick looked at her.

"Come on," Rick said. "Let's go gear up for war."

Michonne nodded, and together they made their back home.


	135. Home

_Prompt—"_ _Due to the fact that DG can sing in real life on TiTTD this was suggested: "Is it crazy I want her to sing on the show... Rick walks in hearing her singing to Judith and the she tells him she used to sing that song to Andre. I would die." –Danaisbestie_

 _I chose Whitney Houston's rendition of Home from the Broadway musical The Wiz, originally done by Stephanie Mills. (Or if you want, Diana Ross). If you haven't heard the song, I encourage you to youtube Whitney Houston Home (do NOT do her live version in 1994. There's a video where she's in purple—go with that one) and listen to AT LEAST the first stanza. Whitney Houston always has been and always will be The Voice. Not a day goes by that I don't miss Nippy. Now yall know Whitney is the ballad Queen, just imagine Michonne singing this song a little bit more softly than Whitney did._

 **HOME**

 **Rated K**

Rick walked upstairs, the house quiet. His feet hurt and all he could think about was taking a hot shower and climbing into bed. He was dog tired, and keeping watch until midnight had taken its toll on him.

He had just reached the top of the stairs when he noticed Judith's light on. He made his way towards his daughter's room, listening in silent wonderment as he heard someone singing.

He knew it was Michonne. Who the hell else would it be? But he'd never heard he sing before, so he was quite transfixed to walk down the hall and hear such an angelic sound. Her voice was soft, and comforting, and had him leaning against the door, slightly out of sight.

 _When I think of home_

 _I think of a place where there's_

 _Love overflowing;_

 _I wish I was home,_

 _I wish I was back there,_

 _With the things I've been knowing._

 _Wind that makes the tall grass bend into leaning,_

 _And suddenly the raindrops that fall_

 _They have a meaning._

 _Sprinkling the scene, makes it all clean._

 _Maybe there's a chance_

 _For me to go back_

The song was beautiful, and for whatever reason had Rick's throat constructing. He peaked inside the room to see Michonne in the rocking chair, Judith in her lap, stroking her hair and softly singing. Judith was fast asleep, a small smile on her face. Michonne continued to rock, and continued to gently sing.

 _Now that I have some direction;_

 _And it sure would be nice to be back home,_

 _Where there's love and affection._

 _And just maybe I can convince time_

 _To slow up._

 _Giving me enough time in my life to grow up;_

 _Time, please be my friend, and let me start again..._

Michonne stopped singing and bent down and kissed Judith softly. Then she stood up and gently placed Judith down in the crib, and Rick walked into the room and stood next to her.

"That was beautiful," Rick told her, his voice low. He stared down at Judith, who sighed in her sleep.

"Thank you." Michonne's voice was quiet as well as she stared fondly at Judith. "I used to sing that song to Andre on nights he had trouble falling asleep."

Rick paused for a few seconds, staring at Michonne out of the side of his eye. "It's a nice song."

Michonne chuckled softly. "It's from the musical The Wiz. It was a remake of the Wizard of Oz." Rick nodded. "Andre loved that play." Her voice held the lightest touch of sadness that only talk of Andre ever brought out.

Rick glanced at her, saying nothing. He just reached out and placed his hand on the small of her back. She leaned into his touch, resting her head on his chest.

"Does this place feel like home?" asked Rick. It had yet to feel like home to the both of them at the same time. When they'd first arrived she was trying to make it home while he was still adjusting…. When he had finally been ready to take this place in, their world was crumbled. During the war they'd lost many, and right when they thought they'd grown accustomed to a routine… things had changed again.

Michonne looked down and palmed her growing baby bump. "It's starting to," she told him with a smile.

Rick kissed the top of her head, a smile on his own lips. "Good."

A/N: Not a part of any particular universe, just a random one-shot where Michonne is pregnant.


	136. Your Body's the Window to Your Soul

_Soulmate A/U where you have a soul mark to identify your soul mate_.

 **YOUR BODY IS THE WINDOW TO YOUR SOUL**

 **Rated M for heavy passion lol**

It took him to prom night to find out Lori wasn't his soulmate. Her mark was right under her breast, and sure, he might have felt her up a time or two, but they had never gone farther than that.

That would change prom night, like it would for half of the other students at King County High.

She had never come out and said that they didn't have matching soul marks. He had suspected that that was the case, though, because she never mentioned his when she saw it one summer afternoon at the pool.

His was right on his knee, not particularly large, but it was obvious what it was nonetheless.

Lori had been wearing a one-piece, and thus he hadn't seen the small mark. He wouldn't know that it was circular, its shape nearly identical to a sunflower, but when she looked down at his knee, he recognized the quick flicker of disappointment almost immediately and knew that it hadn't matched his.

He had always suspected, now he knew.

By this time, it didn't really matter, though. They'd been together for three years, had been friends for most of their lives, and they just seemed… _natural_ together.

So he continued taking off her prom dress, allowing it to slip to the floor, as for the first time ever he started to kiss her body.

His lips brushed her soul mark, making it clear that he didn't care about something as stupid as a soulmate – he loved _her_ , and that was all that mattered, it was all that should ever matter.

…

It wouldn't be until Rick and Shane had worked together for two years before he realized that Shane – his partner, his best friend – had a soul mark that matched his wife's.

They had just come from an overnight stakeout, on one of the hottest nights in Georgia, and they'd come back to the precinct with sweat sticking to their bodies. They made their way to the showers, stripped, and let the water rush down their bodies.

Shane was shaving under his arms when Rick spotted it.

He'd frozen, absolutely stunned, but recovered quickly. It was rare for your soulmate to be in the same _state_ , let alone the same _school_. The fact that they all knew each other… the fact that they were all _friends_ made it even crazier. People rarely met their soulmates.

Yet…

He never told either of them. In essence it didn't matter. Shane was his best friend, and Lori was his _wife_. It didn't matter that they were having problems. They had a life together, a son, and nothing could or would mess that up.

It would take a lot more than that to break up his home.

The world would have to end first.

…

In retrospect it should have been obvious that Lori wasn't his soulmate, and that it _did_ make a difference, when he got shot. He didn't think of her when the world faded to blackness.

He did think of his son. He saw Carl's face, his astonishing blue eyes that so resembled his…. His son was his everything, and he willed himself to stay alive… he willed himself to _just survive somehow_ for his son.

It was also telling that when he finally woke up in that hospital room, out of that coma, that he started talking to Shane.

Not Lori.

There was fear, though. When he woke up, and realized that the world had gone to shit, that everything had changed, he did fear for his wife and their son.

When he found them… when he found _all_ of them the relief he felt… it was proof enough to realize that he should try and salvage his marriage. This woman meant something to him, and it was trivial, the bullshit they were going through in comparison to the life they now had to live.

Except… except Rick knew. He _knew_ that Shane and Lori had slept together, that they knew they were soulmates. And even though _he_ was the husband he couldn't help but feel jealousy, if only for a moment, and the thought of them connecting.

They had made a decision, though. Rick and Lori had decided they would continue to try, if not for each other then for Carl, and the new baby.

The new baby that would be _his_ no matter what, and even if there was a discussion to be had, it was gone the minute he killed Shane.

Lori's devastation was proof enough that soulmates _did_ matter.

They mattered _a lot_.

When Lori died, he learned that it didn't matter whether you were soulmates or not.

Death _hurts_.

…

It would take him nearly two years to realize how much they mattered.

He'd long given up the thought of ever finding his.

Who had time to care about things like that when the world was going to _shit_?

He saw Jessie's soul mark, hidden behind her blonde hair on the side of her neck. It didn't match his, and he didn't care. It didn't stop him from kissing her in her garage, even though it did nothing for him, even though he felt nothing.

She was _familiar_ , something tangible, and he needed tangible because he forgot what it felt like to have someone _need_ him. She needed him, Alexandria needed him, and he had no issue with taking this place, or Jessie.

It's not like Pete had Jessie's matching soul mark. He wasn't breaking up a _happy_ home.

Wondering if Shane had thought the exact same thing left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

Killing Pete had been doing her a favor, but he was convinced it took the last piece of his soul, so when he had to kill _her_ … he didn't even flinch.

…

Even when he kissed Michonne for the first time, Rick didn't automatically think _soulmate_. He thought it was the most magical thing he'd ever experienced in his life… he thought that there would never be a woman more special… he thought that she made the most sense out of anyone he'd ever known.

He thought she was _different_ , and he couldn't explain _why_ , he just knew it felt _right_ , and nothing had felt right for a long, long time. It was more than life changing, it was world shifting.

She was like an endless supply of water, and the only way to quench his thirst was to touch her, hold her, kiss her, _love_ her.

The need… the _desire_ that worked its way through him as he brushed her thumb, those mints nearly forgotten, was tenfold. He could claim it was because it had been _so long_ since he'd had any _real_ human contact. He could claim he just needed something from a woman.

But all those arguments were lost when his lips brushed hers.

How was he ever supposed to breathe again, except through her?

How was he ever supposed to live again, except with her?

How was he ever supposed to feel again, except because of her?

There had never been a need to have someone _right now_ than in this moment. He thought surely he might die if he didn't do this with her, if he didn't let her in.

He _needed_ her, like he needed air, like he needed food, like he needed water.

Like he needed his _soul_.

His _heart_ was working just fine, he realized as they made their way upstairs. It was pounding in his chest, and in a really, really good way. He had never felt more alive than in this moment, not during the many numerous occasions he'd dodged death, not even when he'd woken up from that coma….

He was trying to decide if he was going to the do the right thing and make love to her on the bed, or if he was going to pin her against the door and rip off her clothes so that he could get inside of her as quickly as possible.

He felt like he was running out of time, his desire for her was so paramount, and he figured that there would be time for slow later. Not now. He had to have her _now_ , especially with those moans he was eliciting and the way she had him aching in places he had long forgotten existed.

Like his soul.

He could _swear_ his soul was crying for her.

Michonne gently pushed him away, her sword dropping to the floor, and before he could stare at her confused, she started taking off her shirt, and he understood. He followed suit, his shirt immediately going over his head.

She took off her belt, slipping out of her leggings, and that's when he noticed it.

There, on the inside of her thigh, was her soul mark: the yin-yang symbol was smaller than his, but identical nonetheless. The mini circles that formed the larger circle were just as black and just as perfect as his; the circles that made up the line in the center of the circle was hardly noticeable, but he knew that it was there. Her right side was shaded in, just like his was.

Rick froze for several seconds. He had forgotten about something as trivial as a soulmate.

It was terrifying, absolutely terrifying as he realized how much he loved her in that moment.

"What's wrong?" as Michonne.

Rick realized he'd been still for too long. He looked up at her, searching her eyes.

She didn't know. How could she? When would she have seen his?

He backed away from her. "I wanna show you somethin'," he told her. He turned around, walking up to the nightstand. He took off his watch and gun, placing them on the table, and then he took off his holster, dropping it to the floor. Michonne walked over to the other side of the bed – he supposed it was _her_ side now – and placed her sword down against the nightstand. "C'mere."

She did as she was told, no questions asked, and he watched her walk. She was totally naked, and he thought about showing her later but he didn't want to. He wanted her to know.

Needed her to.

He slipped off is pants and she kept her eyes on him. When he was completely naked he took her hand in his. "I want you to feel somethin'."

"I already do."

Rick snickered. "Not exactly what I meant." His voice was amused, as was the smirk on his face, but her words had him nearly desperate for her. Still, he guided her hand down, down, down, all the way to his knee. "Look down."

He felt her entire body jerk in shock. He saw the way her eyes widened, and then she backed up several steps, blinking rapidly.

"I don't understand," she breathed. Her eyes were wide.

He could spell it out for her. He could say it in plainest terms. Or he could show her. He stepped to her and placed his lips firmly on hers, and he wondered if knowing your soulmate was your soulmate changed everything.

The kiss was mind-blowing, and they couldn't deny themselves any longer.

When they were finally skin to skin he thought that for the first time, he was truly living.

They were eager, and eventually he would learn what would make her tremble, what would turn her own, what would make her scream. For now he just needed to be inside of her.

She seemed to agree. They barely made it to the bed before he was inside of her, and he didn't see stars, he saw _galaxies_. There was an explosion behind his eyelids, and he understood why finding your soulmate was the stuff of legends.

It was worth it, he thought as he moved in and out of her.

It was worth it: the world going to shit, losing his wife, finding out Judith most likely wasn't his, losing friends. All of that shit was _worth_ it for him to have found her, for her to have walked to that prison, bloodied and bruised; for every fight, for every disagreement, for every decision, for every _moment_ it was all worth it, to have her body quivering underneath him, her hips plummeting into his, each of them realizing they could never be closer than now, but still trying to feel _every single inch_ of each other.

He thought he might cry, or scream, or both, and he was quickly becoming lightheaded and dizzy with desire, hope, love, and _need_. Pure, true, animalistic need.

He growled – actually _growled_ – as she bit his shoulder, and suddenly he felt possessive.

Is this what it felt like to find your soulmate? He felt _complete_ , and he had never even known he was incomplete until he was inside of her, trying his damnest to fill this gap, this void. But his completion also showed him that he would be lost without her. She was _his_ , and his only, so it didn't surprise him when he moaned out, " _Mine_!" again and again and again and _again_.

"Yours," she breathed, and then they were coming undone, both of them, at the same time, and Rick knew in that moment _nothing_ would ever be the same.

He realized that sex with your soulmate should be put into law. It was the _best_ feeling in the _world_.

Their bodies finally stilled, and Rick rolled off of her, wondering how long it would be before he learned how to talk again. He wondered how long it'd be before he could _move_ again.

Michonne seemed to be fine. She slid halfway on top of him, and he understood her need to be as close to him as possible without actually being inside of her again. She slid one leg over his, intertwining their legs, and then one arm slid across his chest. His arm, almost on its own accord, slid down to below her waist.

They fell asleep to the shape of their soul mark.

A/N: The shape of the circle was always intriguing to me in regards to its meaning. "They are warm, comforting and give a sense of sensuality and love. Their movement suggests energy and power. Their completeness suggests the infinite, unity, and harmony. Circles protect, they endure, they restrict. They confine what's within and keep things out. They offer safety and connection. Circles suggests community, integrity, and perfection."


	137. The Night at the Kingdom

_This is the REAL Kingdom story I was supposed to write lol. This will showcase Richonne's night at the Kingdom._

 **THE NIGHT AT THE KINGDOM**

 **Rated M for canon smut, as someone asked for lol**

Rick quietly opened the door to his guestroom, stepped inside, and gently closed the door behind him, locking it. He could just make out Michonne's silhouette in the middle of the bed. He took of his boots, leaving them by the door, and then attempted to quietly undress as he made his way towards the bed. Dropping his gun belt and his watch next to the single nightstand, Rick unbuttoned his shirt, unzipped his pants, and let them both flutter to the floor.

The minute he climbed into bed he wrapped his arms around Michonne, inhaling her scent. She smelled just like he did: like the earthy, homemade soap that all the residents of the Kingdom used.

Michonne shifted, moaning softly, and turned around to face him.

"Hey," she said sleepily. "How'd it go?"

Rick sighed. "It was pointless. Morgan's not gonna try to change King Ezekiel's mind. He jus' won't see reason."

"You mean he won't see _your_ reason," pointed out Michonne. Rick scooted back from Michonne so he could try and make out her face. "Do you _agree_ with him?"

"Of course not," Michonne sighed, "but they have a system here that works for them, Rick. They're not us, or even the Hilltop. You know there _are_ people who are against war. We forget that there were people who opposed major wars, but women like Coretta Scott King and men Muhammad Ali spoke out against Vietnam. And on the same end of that spectrum there were people who thought the war was just." Michonne looked at Rick. "I don't know if you've noticed, but Morgan holds on to Aikido like a crutch. It means something to him."

"That doesn't help us," stated Rick.

"No. But it might help him." Rick sighed, shaking his head. Michonne reached out and caressed Rick's cheek. "Hey. _We're the ones that live_ , remember? If it's not the Kingdom, it'll be someone else. We _will_ fight. And we _will_ win. It just might not be the way we think… or with _who_ we think. We both know something's going to happen, or someone's gonna _make_ something happen. They might end up joining after all."

Rick sighed again and leaned in, seeking and finding Michonne's lips.

Michonne moaned softly and then pulled back. "Now that's enough talk about work. This is the first time we've had a bed in a few days. We should take advantage."

Rick smirked. "Are you tryin' to seduce me?" His voice was already an octave lower.

"Oh I'm not trying anything. I'm _going_ to." Her words had his dick jumping. "There's a reason Carl's bunking with Daryl." Michonne's own voice was lower than usual, her breath warm as her lips found his.

Rick forgot all about fighters and death and destruction and hurt and pain. Right now all he could think about was Michonne. She had the ability to make him forget that anything else or anyone else ever existed.

"I wish you had left your clothes on so that I could take them off." Again, the words shot straight through his groin. He groaned.

"It's such a pity that I have to take yours off," he said huskily, already reaching for her camisole. His hands, having a mind of their own, gripped her breasts underneath her shirt, making her breath catch in her throat. He grinned against her lips and then bent his head down, wrapping his mouth around her full breasts, teasing her nipple through her shirt.

Michonne ran her fingers through his curls, eventually pulling his head away. In one fluid motion Michonne had her shirt off, revealing her breasts, her nipples hard. Rick felt himself straining against his boxers and reveled at how easy it was to get hard when it came to Michonne.

He fondled her breasts as he slid his tongue smoothly into her mouth. The two of them battled for dominance for several moments, until Michonne shifted, and before he knew it, she was on top of him.

Sex had been aggressive lately. Not that it hadn't been before, but not like this. Lately they had been all over each other, as if they had to make up for the brief amount of time they weren't having sex after Glenn and Abe were killed.

They tended to fight for domination, only giving up after utterly exhausting themselves, and whoever persevered went to down. There was biting, scratching, and slightly bruised skin. He had won in the shower earlier.

It seemed like Michonne was determined to win tonight.

She sucked on his bottom lip, and Rick made a strange noise, a cross between a groan and a strained moaned. Michonne's hand slithered into Rick's boxers, gripping him.

" _Fuck_ ," he grunted out, and his hands traveled to her ass, squeezing. This time it was Michonne's turn to moan. Rick pushed her panties down, squeezing again.

Michonne's lips were hot on his neck as she sucked, and then she was leaving a trail of open mouth kisses down his chest, lower to his stomach, and then she licked him, right at the edge of his boxers.

He momentarily forgot how to breathe.

She tugged on his boxer shorts and Rick lifted his hips to make it easier for him. Kicking them off of him Rick arched pulled Michonne to him, kissing her deeply. When she broke away she lowered herself until her mouth wrapped around him.

She had him squirming, his hand gripping her head. He bit his lip to keep from making too much noise – he had _never_ made noise before Michonne. He grunted out her name after several moments, sure that he would explode if she stayed wrapped around him for another second.

He figured he needed to slow it down if he was going to allow her to experience any pleasure.

He pulled her up, kissing her again, and let his lips travel down to that tender spot on her shoulder. She sucked in a harsh breath – it was her spot, and he knew it – so he allowed his lips to linger. She sighed softly, her fingers finding their way to his curls again.

He gently flipped them over so that he was on top, continuing his soft administration down her body. He flicked his tongue over her nipple, relishing in the way her stomach muscles jumped at his touch. One hand wrapped around his head, urging him to suck harder, but with the utmost restraint he only sucked on her breasts for a few moments before moving on.

Her back arched when he licked her from the valley of her breasts to her navel.

Without taking off her panties, Rick slid his fingers down to her center, groaning at how wet she was for him. It would be way too easy – not to mention it was damned tempting – to go down on her immediately, but instead he made his way back up to the lips on her face.

" _Rick_ ," Michonne whispered, clearly frustrated. He sent her a grin, his eyes sparkling with lust. "I can take care of myself, but honestly, I don't want to."

 _That_ had his mouth dropping open and all the blood going down south. He tried to keep his cool, though, his lips finding the way to her neck, and further down, down, down, until he reached the edge of her panties. With his teeth he started pulling them down.

Rick glanced up at Michonne, noting how heavy her breathing was, and noticed she was watching him under heavily lidded eyes. Without breaking eye contact he inched his way closer and closer to her center, darting his tongue deep inside of her.

She gasped, loudly, and Rick refused to help matters: he slid his hands up and gripped her breasts, squeezing. She cursed, softly, a simple, " _Fuck_ ," escaping from her mouth, turning Rick on even more.

He feasted until she was nearly ready to combust, but instead of letting her release, he pulled away from her.

The look she gave him could melt steel.

He pulled her to him and she took that as her cue; she wrapped her legs around his waist and he gripped her hips, positioning himself above her and gently entering him. She moaned softly and then sighed, clearly satisfied to have him inside of her.

Teasing her just a little while longer, he didn't immediately start moving.

Taking matters into her own hands, she locked her feet around him and arched her back.

" _Please_ , Rick." The plea was simple and was enough to make him harder. Deciding he was done teasing her he _finally_ started moving, his thrusts shallow and slow before he started stroking deeper and faster. Before long he was touching her hilt, and covering her mouth with his palm to keep her from waking the entire Kingdom.

She met his thrusts fiercely, her strong, muscular arms pulling him in even deeper. Lifting on of her legs over his shoulder Rick threw his head back as the pleasure took over.

They had mastered cumming together – like their relationship, like his love for her – he wasn't sure how the hell it happened, but they were so damn in tune with each other that he wasn't surprised. He didn't have to tell her he was about to cum, he released the moment she clenched around him, and he pulled her into a searing kiss to drown out her moans.

Their breathing hard the two of them didn't say much for several moments.

 _This_ is what he was living for. Moments like this was why he was determined to fight. They would fight, and eventually they would win.

At the very least so they could get a bed again and make love like that.

"He may be eccentric," Rick said, facing Michonne, "but thank God for King Ezekiel and allowin' us to stay tonight."

"Yah," agreed Michonne, smiling, "it's certainly been some night at the Kingdom."


	138. Losing Rick

_Prompt—"I'd love your take on what's going through Michonne's head in 601, First Time Again, when Rick is asking for volunteers to keep watch re. the herd. She's the first to respond but doesn't look directly at Rick when doing so, she then looks at him for a split second, quickly averts her eyes and then looks over her shoulder for a good while afterwards. What the heck is going on with her here?! Thanks again!" –arzaff_

 **LOSING RICK**

 **Rated K**

Michonne felt like she was losing her best friend.

Everything was… off. It was no longer balanced.

She stood in the meeting, along with everyone else, and listened to Rick explain a plan that was a mixture of danger and stupidity. She understood why they had to, but Rick was being irrational. There _had_ to be another way.

There should be another way.

Still, he was right. They didn't have a lot of options, and they had even less time. They had to take action. The amount of walkers was insane. They had to get them out of there, otherwise Alexandria was a sitting duck. The _point_ was right. The execution was a little off. Rick wasn't wrong, but he wasn't right either.

The truth was… he wasn't the same man she had grown to care for and respect.

He was _changing_.

It was why she fought so hard to get here. They needed to get from _out there_ and get to _here_. They had _needed_ Alexandria. For someone who hadn't even wanted to come… for someone who hadn't bothered trying to really get to know these people, he sure was anxious to save them.

Or maybe – and this was one hard pill to swallow – maybe the issues that bothered her the most was that he wasn't doing this for Alexandria. He was doing this for himself.

They weren't seeing eye to anymore.

She knew he had come here for her, but it was because they needed Alexandria.

The difference was that Rick now _wanted_ Alexandria, and he didn't want to play fair to get it.

It would truly, truly be a shame to have come all this way, attempting to save her group, only to lose Rick in the process. He was… different. Cold. Aloof. Erratic. She never knew what to expect from him, and that was unlike them.

She couldn't read him anymore. He was closed off, distant, unfamiliar.

He had been out there for too long.

They all had, really. Who knew better than she did what that felt like? But she had had Andrea to bring her back, and eventually Carl. Then Rick. They had bought her back. They had needed her, and she had needed them.

Somehow, some way, she had to make Rick see that he needed the people of Alexandria.

Right now… he couldn't see it. All he could see was having a warm bed for Carl, a crib for Judith…. He couldn't see that the Alexandrians were _trying_. Morgan was trying. Father Gabriel was trying.

They were _all_ trying.

Everyone except him.

But still… she had vowed that she was still with him, that she would _always_ be with him. They were partners. She would have his back, even if she had to knock him on his ass again.

So when his blue eyes rested on her, waiting for her acceptance or rejection, she did what she vowed she always would: she signified her alliance to him – her alliance _with_ him – with a single nod.

She would help him. She would _always_ help him. But she would do it for the _right_ reasons. They _did_ need this place. And they needed these people. So she would help them.

She just hoped she wouldn't lose Rick in the process.


	139. Prom

_Prompt—"_ _Good story! Wanted more between the stories." –Trista3_

 _-and-_

" _Loved it so much omgg do more canon high school richonne please!:)_ _" -Guest_

 **KING COUNTY PROM**

 **Rated K**

Rick wasn't sure why he was so nervous. He'd gone to prom before, last year, with Jessie. But this was different. This was _the_ night, with _the_ woman of his dreams, and he couldn't help but feel both excited and nervous.

It was _prom night_.

He straightened his tie for the umpteenth time, and glanced at himself one last time in the mirror. The suit matched Michonne's. He hadn't seen her, or her dress yet, but she had handed him a piece of cloth to tell him what color he should wear.

The suit was a metallic navy, highlighting the color of his eyes. It was the reason Michonne chose it, apparently. At least that's what she had told him a few days ago. He would never admit it aloud, but it certainly gave him butterflies to hear that.

Rick made his way downstairs and found his parents waiting expectantly for him. After his parents made a fuss and forced him to pose for pictures, they all left and headed to Mr. and Mrs. Rogers' so that he could _finally_ get to Michonne.

He thought this moment would never get here.

He'd woken up early, his stomach swooping excitingly, and he had to force himself to go back to sleep because he knew they would end up partying all night. Prom ended at twelve, and then there was the after party he had to _beg_ his parents to go to. In the end his curfew was three in the morning and he planned on making every second count.

They arrived at Michonne's and he rung the doorbell. He wasn't sure why he expected her to answer, but he blinked in surprise when her father opened the door.

"Michonne's still upstairs getting ready. She'll be down in a few. Can I offer you a beer?"

"A… a _beer_?" asked Rick, confused. Mr. Rogers stared at Rick. "No, Sir."

"Good answer," Mr. Rogers stated. "You're taking my little girl out to her prom tonight. I expect her to be returned to me one piece, safe and sound."

Oh.

"You have my word, Sir, that I will do just that."

Mr. Rogers stared at him for several moments. "I know. You're a good kid – _man_ – and I know my daughter's in good hands." Rick nodded. "You all make yourselves at home. I'll go run and check on Michonne."

It didn't take him long. He came back downstairs, Mrs. Rogers behind him. She had a camera in her hand. She asked Rick to take a few solo pictures, and then they turned their attention to the stairs.

Surprisingly she wasn't wearing navy. Instead her sequenced dress had millions of tiny little beads that showcased every color of the rainbow. She looked like a walking jewelry box, or like jeweled candy. There were pinks and golds and navies and bronze….

The dress was long, and pooled around her feet, save for her right side, where a long slit made its way up her thighs. Her braids were up in a tight bun, highlighting her cheekbones.

She looked like perfection personified into a walking, living, breathing human being.

It was something out of a movie, the way he heard the jazz music playing in his head and how she walked down the stairs in slow motion. When she finally reached the bottom of the stairs, somehow he wound up in front of her.

"Wow," he breathed out.

She arched an eyebrow, a small smile on her face. "Wow is… good?"

"Wow is…" Rick paused, searching for the right word. "Spectacular. Brilliant. You look like an art piece."

Her grin widened at that. "You look quite dapper yourself, Mr. Grimes."

They posed for a few pictures, until they the limousine driver rang the doorbell. Then they made their way around the neighborhood, picking up Daryl and his date, Morgan and his date, and Sasha and Andrea and their dates. Then they all made their way to a neighborhood with a pond, which was _the spot_ to take prom pictures.

Afterwards they said goodbye to their parents, and then they all piled back into the limo and made their way to prom.

It was a magical evening, and superseded everything Rick thought it would be.

He was convinced that as he held her body to him, slow dancing to a song about love, he was falling in love with her.

He hadn't said it yet. He only just figured it out. He wasn't sure when he'd say something. He _needed_ to. He should. He wanted to. He just didn't know how.

"This night is perfect," Michonne said, her head resting on his chest.

"Yah, it is," agreed Rick. "There's no one I'd rather spend this night with than you."

She looked up at him then, her eyes glittering. "You think I'm goooorgeous, you wanna daaaate me, love me and marrrrry me." It was a joke of sorts between them, reciting that line from Miss Congeniality to each other, but this time, it felt realer than ever.

"I do," he heard himself tell her. She continued to stare at him.

"You do what?"

"I love you." The words slipped out before he could stop them, and his heartbeat sped up. _Shit_.

"I know," she told him. She didn't even seem surprised, or freaked out. He continued to stare at her.

"How?"

She sent him a blazing smile. "Because I love you too."

It was such a simple statement, but it spoke volumes.


	140. The Confession

A/N: Same universe as Chap 66 and 91

 **THE CONFESSION**

 **Rated T**

Rick leaned in and kissed Michonne again, and something shifted inside of him. He felt his heart relocate to his stomach. He'd never _ever_ kissed anyone this way before.

He might bring her a pack of Lifesaver mints every day if this was his reward.

It was a simple gesture, something to let her know that he'd been thinking about her. He'd ran to the store, saw the pack of mints, and grabbed them without even thinking. He hadn't expected such a response, but he certainly wasn't complaining.

Rick surprised himself by sliding his tongue into her mouth the minute she parted her lips – he hadn't been that bold yet, and they'd been dating for three months now. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to. It was just they had both come from complicated situations and wanted to take it slow, and he always tried to be respectful of that, despite the fact that the more time he spent with her the more he wanted to _know_ her.

She didn't seem opposed to this next level of kissing. In fact, she sighed softly, and then wrapped her arms around his neck. His own hands fell to her hips, and he thought about going lower, only instead of cupping her ass he instead cupped her face, his thumb caressing her cheek.

"I have to go," she told him softly after several moments.

"I know," replied Rick, but he leaned in for yet another kiss.

She let him.

When she finally broke away she did so apologetically.

"Are we still on for tomorrow night?" asked Michonne.

Rick grinned. "I'll pick you up at seven."

…

They were sitting at the table, the ambiance soft, the wine flowing, and the music mellow. She looked stunning in a champagne pink sequenced dress and gold accessories, her hair up and highlighting her face. She wore minimal makeup, at his insistence, because she really didn't need it.

He stared at her, his glass of wine in his hand, thinking about the past three months with her. They hadn't put a title on their relationship – they were much too old to be boyfriend and girlfriend, that just sounded juvenile as ever, but they were definitely exclusive. They had talked about taking it slow, but neither one of them had had any choice in the matter.

Their first kiss had taken place on their second date, where she had invited him over so that she could cook for him. They ended up talking and cooking together, laughing, and she had a little bit of flour on her face. It was so endearing that without thinking he leaned in and kissed her.

If it had caught her off guard she didn't show it; instead she responded back, and the rest seemed to be history.

Now he was sitting across from her, wondering how he hell he'd gotten so lucky.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" asked Michonne, breaking his chain of thought. He blinked at her.

"Like what?"

She shrugged, almost elegantly. How did someone shrug _elegantly_? "I don't know. Normally I'm pretty good at reading you, but you've blocked me tonight. You've been quiet. Is everything okay?"

He saw the concern in her eyes, and the small frown on her face, and he felt his stomach swoop. The need to tell her outweighed his fear that it was too soon. She'd asked for honesty. That was her one expectation when it came to their relationship.

"I've been through a lot of shit," she had told him. "I've experienced love. I've experienced loss. Now all I want is to experience truth. Say what you mean, and mean what you say."

He had taken that to heart, and to not tell her how he was feeling would be a disservice to them both.

"I guess I jus' been thinkin'," said Rick vaguely.

She arched an eyebrow. "Care to be more specific?"

"I been thinkin' about us."

Rick watched, almost fascinated, as her face instantly became masked. Her eyes became guarded, she sat up a little straighter.

"What about us?"

Rick hesitated for a brief second, and then he took a large gulp of his wine. He sat his glass down, took a deep breath, looked Michonne dead in her eye, and said, "I'm fallin' in love with you."

She wasn't able to successfully hide the shock in her eyes. "Oh," she stated softly. She searched his eyes for several seconds. "What makes you say that?"

"Everything. It's the way I think about you all day, every day. The way I would do anything for you, anything at all. The way you are with Andre, and the way you are with Carl. The way I can trust you with him. Watchin' you two grow closer…." Rick paused for a moment. "He needs you. His mother's not around as much anymore, and I can't be his father and his best friend. I know it's not fair, and it's a lot to throw at you, but—"

"I love you." The words were so soft that had he not been looking at her he'd have missed it. "I love you," she repeated again, "which means I also love Carl. I know it hasn't been that long, but it's been long enough. You two have become family to Andre and I. Andre loves you, and he loves Carl. I mean the way you are with him…." Michonne shrugged. "How could I not love you?"

Rick let out a slow breath. "I can't tell you how relieved I am to hear you say that."

Michonne lifted her nearly empty glass of white wine and raised it. "To new beginnings, and happy endings."

Rick clinked his glass to hers. "I'll certainly drink to that."

…

When Rick walked inside the house Carl was still up playing video games.

"Hey, can you turn that off for a minute?" asked Rick. Carl stared at his father for a second, pausing his game. Rick sat in the chair across from Carl. "I wanna talk to you about somethin' important."

"Did you and Michonne break up?" blurted out Carl.

Rick blinked. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know, 'cause you're being so serious. I thought everything was good. I like Michonne, and Andre."

"I do too," Rick admitted. "I didn't break up with her. I really like her, in fact. This is… this is different."

Carl stared at his father for a few seconds, and Rick held his breath. "It's cool," shrugged Carl. "Besides… you deserve different."

Rick gave Carl a slow grin and then stood up, ruffling his son's hair. "I'm headed to bed. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight Dad," Carl smiled.

"Night, son."


	141. Chance Encounters

_Prompt—"_ _I should have known by the song choice...but wouldn't it be lovely if you could write a followup chapter/s where Rick bumps into Michonne again and again (on/off the train) and they slowly become Richonne...?" –Wereworldsurvivor_

 _-also-_

 _Prompt—"Hi. First of all, I would like to say that I love your stories. Always puts a smile on my face when you update._ _  
_ _Second: I would love it if you did a follow-up to the oneshot 68. I love this story and I always imagine Rick finding michonne after a few years and ending up getting together._ _  
_ _Anyway, it's just an idea._ _  
_ _Happy holidays!_ __

 _Ps: Sorry for the mistakes, I do not speak english very well, I'm from Brazil;)" -Feeap_

 _This is referring to 'Beautiful' (Chapter 68)_

 **CHANCE ENCOUNTERS**

 **Rated K**

Rick made his way down the aisle, attempting to find the exact brand of chocolate for Lori's craving. Never mind that it was the middle of the night. Who cares if by the time he got back home she'd have fallen back asleep and wouldn't even eat the damn thing? She had certainly done that on quite a few occasions. And she never did it in the middle of the day. It was always the dead of night, when he was just getting into that _good_ sleep. It drove him crazy.

Still, she was pregnant with his baby boy, so every time she tapped his shoulder, he got up and got dressed and headed to Target to get his wife a box of chocolates.

He finally found the brand he was looking for and had just grabbed it when someone walked down the aisle he was in.

He wouldn't have cared. He wouldn't have even looked up, if some otherworldly being hadn't told him to look up as she passed. He watched her retreating figure walk away, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

When she paused several feet away, facing the cake options, Rick just stared.

It'd been several years since he'd seen her. Like four or five. He hadn't had to take the subway for a few years now. But he still remembered her.

Oh yes, he remembered her quite well.

The dark hair. The darker skin. The darkest pair of brown eyes.

The perfect body.

She was just… everything she was back on the subway all those years ago.

She sighed softly and grabbed the box of cake mix she was looking for, and finally turned to face him.

Their eyes locked, and she seemed momentarily stunned. He saw the quick flicker of recognition, and then she sent him that same brilliant smile she had on the subway.

He grinned back and nodded, turning and walking away.

The last thing he saw was her rubbing her own baby bump.

…

It was another year before he saw her again – not that he was keeping track.

He and Lori were out on a date – their first since Carl was born, and it was this encounter that made him think that perhaps they thought alike or if it was just mere coincidence.

The restaurant of choice _was_ popular, and figuring it was only its second weekend being open it was still a pretty hot spot.

She wasn't facing him when he walked in, but he knew it was her. Who else could it be? He noticed the hair, the stance, the _aura_.

It was definitely her.

She was dressed in the same black and white uniform as every other worker, though she looked far better in her uniform than anyone else.

Not that he was checking her out or anything.

"Hey," one of her co-workers was saying. Her name tag read ANDREA. "Good luck tonight on your bar exam."

"Thanks." It was the first time he'd ever heard her speak. Her voice was like liquid gold. Like the sparkles from the stars. Like the sheen of the moon. "I'll call you as soon as I'm done."

"Don't. Spend the time with Mike and Andre instead. I'm sure they miss you. Enjoy your weekend off."

"I will."

And just like that, he was face to face with her.

She stopped, clearly surprised, and then she sent him a blinding smile and was on her way out the door.

He wanted desperately to turn his head and watch as she walked away.

…

Rick walked into the District Attorney's office, his navy blue suit sticking to him in the heat. The cool air made him breathe a sigh of relief as he hurried along the corridor, making his way to the elevator.

He was due in court in five minutes. Today was the first day of his trial. The trial that would determine if the man who'd shot him and nearly killed him the line of duty would go to jail for life.

Rick wasn't happy about being here. He didn't want to relive that moment, or talk about the domino effect that day had on his life: going into a coma, waking up to find out he'd been gone for six months, and his wife four months pregnant with his best friend's baby.

A divorce because he didn't love his wife, and they hadn't been happy for years, so much so that he wasn't even surprised she had cheated.

He could barely find it in himself to care. Being shot showed you that life was too short to be unhappy. He'd signed the divorce papers and felt _free_ for the first time in _years_.

He saw the elevator light on, along with a slender figure several feet ahead. The doors slid open and the woman walked into the elevator. Rick jogged, attempting to catch it. He couldn't afford to be late.

"Hold the elevator," he called, and he could see the doors sliding shut.

And then a black leather briefcase slid smoothly through the doors, forcing the elevator to open back up.

Rick stopped dead in his tracks.

It'd been about seven years since the last time he'd seen her.

She was still just as stunning. And she hadn't aged a day. _He_ was walking around with a salt-and-pepper beard, there were grey flecks in his hair now, and there were wrinkles on his eyes.

She was still just as perfect.

And even after all this time, he was still rendered speechless.

He blushed at the intensity of her gaze and stepped on the elevator. She moved aside, giving him space. He pushed the floor he needed – two floors above hers – and the doors closed, placing them in a deafening silence. He could feel his heart hammering and he wondered if she could hear it.

He thought about saying something. He _wanted_ to say something. Something clever and witty that would make her laugh, though it was probably useless to think that way, figuring she was still probably taken.

Rick knew if _he_ was with her, he'd never let her go.

He was about to say something – what, he didn't know – when he caught her looking at him. She chuckled and he grinned.

"I'm not sure why this is so awkward," she told him. "I've seen you so many times I feel like I should know your name."

He told the butterflies in his stomach to go away. "Rick."

She arched an eyebrow. "That's it? Just… one name?"

He looked her over. "One more than you."

She smiled at him. "That was smooth. Michonne. Michonne Rogers." She held out his hand and he shook it.

"It's nice to finally have a name to go with the face."

She looked at him. "Indeed it is."

At that moment the elevator door opened. She had reached her floor.

"Goodbye, Rick," she said softly.

He nodded his goodbye, wishing she could stay. She walked off the elevator, and the doors were nearly closed before he stuck his hand out.

"Michonne, wait." Rick stood between the doors and Michonne stopped and turned around. "Maybe… maybe we can go out sometime? That is… if you're not with anyone. Or if you have the time. Of if you jus' don't want to—"

"Rick." Michonne's voice was firm yet soft. "I'd love to." She reached into the pocket of her briefcase and produced a card. "Call me. My cell's on there." Rick took the card, fingering it. "I'll see you later."

"You'll see me _soon_ ," corrected Rick, and she flashed him another smile that had his stomach doing flip-flops.

"Looking forward to it. Take care."

Rick watched her go until the elevator started beeping. He jumped, looking around, and then made his way back into the elevator.

He'd spent the better part of ten years seeing her in random places. Now he planned on seeing her every day.


	142. Pretty Blue Eyes

_Prompt—"_ _How about a fic where Michonne gets injured while on a run? When they come back to ASZ they have to give her medication that makes her a little loopy. She's talking all of this nonsense to Rick and she has no recollection of it the next day! It sounds a little weird, but I've always thought high Michonne would be hilarious! This can be after or pre canon Richonne." –Guest_

 _Changed this a little – I had them go to Hilltop instead of ASZ. Consider this sometime after Negan in dealt with, before the comic two-year time jump._

 _Eff it. Truth is… it's just crack LOL._

 **PRETTY BLUE EYES**

 **Rated T for language**

" _Shit_!" exclaimed Michonne, and then she was on the ground, the pain in her ankle nearly blinding her. She groaned, her hand immediately reaching for her ankle, and barely even touching it Michonne whimpered.

Rick was there in about a second, kneeling down next to her, his blue eyes bright with concern. When he reached out and gently touched her ankle Michonne jerked away from him.

"It's broken," he said. " _Fuck_."

"Rick," whispered Michonne. She was feeling lightheaded.

"I gotta wrap it up, and then we'll get you to Hilltop."

Michonne felt the tears and tried to swallow them away. She _hated_ crying, but it hurt _so bad_. She bit her lip until she drew blood as Rick attempted to patch up her ankle.

Daryl came running, his bow up. "Wha' happened?"

"She slipped in the mud," Rick said.

"Got damn rain," muttered Daryl.

"We need to get to the RV. We're closest to Hilltop."

"Yah."

"Help me with her." Daryl put his bow on his back and together he and Rick picked up Michonne and made their way back to the RV.

…

When Michonne opened her eyes again, everything was still. She felt… groggy, like she'd taken a couple of sleeping pills and had to wake up before they wore off.

Her mouth was dry as she tried to call out. She wanted both Rick and water, and she wasn't sure which was more important at the moment.

Her brain felt fuzzy.

Something was off. All of it was off.

And then paralyzing fear gripped her as she realized she could be in danger. Negan's face flashed in her mind and she started, already checking for her sword.

It was gone.

It was _gone_.

"Hey. _Hey_." She heard Rick's voice before she saw him, but a few seconds later, he was in front of her, his hands on her shoulder. "Relax. You're okay." She stared at him, shaking. He cupped her cheek. "Relax. You're fine."

She took a deep breath, still trembling, her eyes fluttering closed. She was able to whisper out for some water, and Rick disappeared and then came back a few seconds later, a cup of water in his hands. Michonne drank it all.

"What happened?"

"You slipped and sprained your ankle."

And just like that, the pain came back tenfold.

"We're at Hilltop. Dr. Carson fixed you up pretty well, but you'll be out of it for quite some time. You broke your ankle."

Michonne blinked. "How the _fuck_ did I break my ankle? We can't afford for my ankle to be broken. Negan's out there."

Concern flooded those blue eyes again. "Negan? Michonne, we captured him. He's not a threat."

Michonne squinted at Rick, and suddenly she pictured Negan in the jail cell Morgan had built. She laid back. "I guess I'm still a little out of it."

"That's to be expected," said Dr. Carson, walking in. Maggie was behind him. "You're on some pretty heavy drugs right now. The strongest I got."

Michonne leaned back, closing her eyes, and sighed loudly. "Medicine's not working."

"I'm actually here to give you more." Michonne nodded, silently thanking God. This shit _hurt_.

…

The next time Michonne opened her eyes she found herself staring into the most beautiful pair of electric blue eyes she'd ever seen. She took in his dark hair – flecked with grey – and her stomach did something funny.

"Wow. An angel," she breathed. She could barely make out his smirk. "I bet you were like… a Greek god before the Turn."

This time Rick openly laughed. "Right. 'Cause I changed ethnicities after the world went to shit."

"You have the prettiest blue eyes," sighed Michonne. "Like Uncle Jessie's."

Daryl snorted. "She has an Uncle Jessie?"

"I think she means John Stamos. He played Jessie on that show Full House."

"Right. With those twins. I remember."

"The Olsen Twins," Michonne reminded them. "Tia and Tamera Olsen."

"Yah, I don't think that's right," Rick said with a smile. "You're still out of it."

"Mmm. You're beautiful."

Rick laughed again, bending down and kissing her forehead. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Rick?"

"Hm?"

"I can't feel my face." Daryl snorted and Rick chuckled.

"That's okay. Why don't you go on back to sleep?"

"Kay. Goodnight. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

"I'll certainly keep that in mind."

She fell asleep to their laughter.


	143. Of Course

_In some fics I have Michonne knowing her feelings first (based off of her telling Spencer that she was "working up to to it" in regards to Deanna asking her what it is she wanted) and other times I have Rick knowing his feelings because of the look he gives her in 6x10 when they're holding hands. He LITERALLY is looking at her with this smile like "I been waiting" and Michonne kind of looks confused/ "Omg is this real, is this really happening?" So I wanted to do a one-shot based on Rick's face…. I think in that moment, on the couch, he knew first, and it took Michonne just a second longer to get it. Title taken from the interviews with AL and DG, who both say that that moment on the couch was their "come to Jesus" moment. It was like "Of course it was you. It was always you." I love AL and DG =]_

 **OF COURSE**

 **Rated M for smut**

Rick took a deep breath, Michonne next to him, the thoughts of the day running through his mind. He couldn't believe he had lost that damn truck…. All that damn toothpaste… the food… the necessities… the _toothpaste_.

It reminded him of the one thing in his back pocket.

"Oh. Got somethin' for you," he told her, reaching into his pocket. It took him a few seconds to grip it, but finally he pulled out the back of spearmint Lifesavers that he'd gotten from the vending machine. He handed it to her, a smile on his face.

Michonne burst out laughing, Rick following closely behind, and snatched the mints from him. She stared at it for a few moments. "Is this instead of the toothpaste?"

"Mhmm," grinned Rick. "I do have it for you, by the way. It's just currently at the bottom of the lake."

Michonne stared at Rick in disbelief. "Oh, so you had a _day_ ," Michonne concluded.

"Yah," laughed Rick. "All on account of your dental hygiene." Michonne laughed again. "Have your mints." He patted her hand and the mints shifted, forcing their fingertips to touch, and something clicked, almost instantly.

His heartbeat sped up as he slowly intertwined his fingers with Michonne's. He looked at her, and she was still looking at their hands before looking up at him and meeting his gaze.

So many things flashed in his mind as Michonne stared at their fingers. He thought about the way Carl had claimed she was one of them; how she had confessed that she used to talk to her dead boyfriend and made him feel _normal_ even though he was crazy. That moment had really changed everything for him. The fact that she had opened up, if even for a little while, and confided in him.

Rick remembered those nights in the prison, watching her grow closer to Carl, arguing over Comic book heroes and villains, laughing, joking, _talking_.

The way she would always join Rick on his watch; half the time they wouldn't even say anything to each other, they just sat in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

He remembered the way she'd forgiven him for his betrayal in thinking about the Governor's offer. The way she understood that he _had_ to think about it, even though it killed him to do so. The way she insisted he let her in, even though he didn't have to, but he he let her inside the prison, had allowed her to earn her keep.

He told her it must've been something else, and now he knew.

How many times had he missed it? After the fall of the prison and she had found them? She had confessed to him that she almost hadn't followed his and Carl's footsteps. But she had made the choice to come, to find them. Should he had known then? Should he had figured it out?

He'd damned near had asked her to be Carl's mother. If her acceptance hadn't done it, then her telling him that she was done taking breaks really should have been it. Something should have clicked for him when Joe had found them. The fact that he could share his fear for Carl with Michonne – that he wasn't just thinking about how to save Carl but Michonne too – shouldn't that have been a hint?

Getting out of Terminus, finding Gabriel and the church, losing the church, finding out there was no cure…. Making the decision to go to Washington, going to Alexandria… and then the ultimate betrayal. Him, lying to her, creating a plan behind her back, _again_ ….

Her forgiveness, and then the ultimate admission: " _I'm still with you_."

He probably should have known then. The fact that he couldn't keep lying to her, and knowing that she would be able to talk to him out of it, to know that no matter what, no matter how _stupid_ he acted, she would be with him… he should have known then.

Telling him that she was with him should have been the last of many clues that it was her.

 _Of course_ it was her.

It was _always_ her.

Who the hell else would it be?

Who else would live with them? Who else could tuck Judith and Carl in every night? Guard this place with her life?

Wait up for him, just so they could discuss their day?

Who the else would he be comfortable enough to take his shoes off with and sit on the couch and hand a pack of mints to?

If he hadn't been able to get Carol something… or Sasha, or Rosita, or Maggie something… would he have thought it was important to bring them back _something_?

It had always been there in the back of his mind, the fact he could not, absolutely would not arrive back home empty handed.

Not for her.

He had seen the mints, had decided to grab them _just in case_ they didn't get the truck back. But not trying to get the truck back… that wasn't an option. It was tempting to jump in after it. For a split second it had crossed his mind.

Not for the community. Not for his people. Not for Daryl. Not to one up Jesus.

But for her.

Always for her.

She had made this place home, like no one else had been able to do for him. That's what she had made for them. When she had talked about coming to Washington to make a better life, she was talking about _them_. Carl. Judith. _Him_.

No one ever thought about him.

So when she looked up at him, only a few seconds after their hands interlocked, he knew.

Of course he knew.

So when she met his gaze, he was smiling at her, because it made sense. It made more sense than anything, the most sense since he'd woken up in that damn hospital bed.

It made more sense than Lori ever did, and it damn sure made more sense than Jessie ever had.

He watched as Michonne stared at him, almost quizzically. He'd spell it out for her if he had to. It was always going to be them. But as she stared him it seemed to click for for her too, and she slowly returned his smile.

He didn't feel nervous as he leaned in to kiss her. He took her time to make sure that _she_ was sure.

Still, his hand found her face and he couldn't help but caress her cheek. When their lips met he felt the world _right_. There was no apocalypse, the world wasn't shit, it was just her. It was like the whole point of this was so that they would have met, and eventually have this moment.

She was his fate.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been in love with her. He didn't think from that first moment their eyes locked. He hadn't been in his right mind then. All he knew was that he'd grown to care for her enough to hate when she ran off trying to find the Governor.

He deepened the kiss, thinking about the time she had found them and knocked on the door, purposely making the decision to find them, to find _him_.

He stopped kissing her to look at her. He needed to look her. He couldn't help it; he smiled again.

She returned the smile, cupping his cheeks. He climbed on top of her, determined to have her, to taste her. He needed her, like oxygen, like air, like his pumping heart.

He would pinpoint when it happened. He would.

Just not right now.

Right now he was worried about getting his gun holster from around his waist and how quickly he could get to her. The need to feel her… to touch her.. to be inside of her….

Rick thought back to the time she had told him not to touch her. They'd come a long way from that moment.

Rick moaned involuntarily when Michonne slid her tongue in his mouth. Jesus, was this really about to happen?

She slid her hands underneath his shirt, setting his skin on fire.

"Daryl," whispered Michonne. Rick stopped kissing her and arched an eyebrow. "Upstairs," Michonne mumbled, and her attempt at convincing him to go upstairs so that Daryl wouldn't walk in on them fell on deaf ears as her hands gripping the base of his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.

Rick kissed her back, mumbling against her mouth. "You're not exactly makin' it easy at the moment." His hands acted on their own accord and made their way under Michonne's shirt.

"Okay." She kissed him again and then pulled away. "Let's go." She must have meant it this time because she pushed him back. She got off the couch, pulling Rick along with her. She grabbed her sword, Rick grabbed his holster, and then he pulled her towards her and kissed her again.

Somehow they made their way towards the stairs. They got stuck once they reached the first stair. He pinned her against the wall, his jeans strained, and kissed her like his life depended on it.

Michonne moaned and it was the most erotic thing he'd ever heard. He thought he might actually die and have heart failure, but if he died before he got to have Michonne he'd never forgive himself.

He thought he might combust when Michonne reached for his pants, unbuttoning the front.

He would have taken her right then, on the stairs, against the wall, if he hadn't thought about the fact that he wanted their first time together to mean more than a quick fuck against the wall.

"Come on," Rick urged her, and together they made their way further up the stairs. He kissed her all the way to his room, and it took several moments for him to open the door because he was too busy giving her mouth to mouth.

The second they were inside and the door was shut he pinned her against the door, his tongue down her throat, her hips grinding into his. When she wrapped her legs around his waist he groaned.

Grabbing her sword he carried her to the nightstand, placing her sword down and then dropping her on the bed. She stared up at him with heavily-lidded eyes,

He stared at her for a few seconds and then walked around to the other side of the bed. She followed him with her eyes and watched as he pulled his gun out of its holster – dropping the holster along the way – and placed the gun on his nightstand, along with his watch.

He started unbuttoning his shirt and Michonne sat up, following suit. Her tank top went over head and she tossed it aside. He went for his pants and Michonne stood up and kicked hers off so that they were both naked.

Rick slowly looked her up and down and then stepped to her, untying her 'locks so that they cascaded around her shoulder. Then he kissed her, slowly, softly. She responded back, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in closer.

"Eventually I'm gonna learn every inch of your body," Rick assured Michonne, kissing her neck. "But right now…."

"Yah," nodded Michonne, and slid her hand down and gripped him. He jerked, his head falling back and his eyes fluttering closed. She kissed him, hard, all the while stroking him.

When Michonne lowered herself to him Rick tensed. He cursed when she wrapped her lips around him, grabbing her hair for support. He thrust into her without meaning to until he had to call her name in warning.

She backed away from him and Rick sat Michonne on the bed and bent down, spreading her legs. Gripping her legs he put his face in between her legs. Michonne gripped his hair, pulling it as a high pitched moan escaped from her lips.

It didn't take much for her. Her legs clamped shut around his face as the orgasm hit her, full-force, her body bucking as she let loose. He lifted himself up and kissed her, not even letting her catch her breath. She tasted herself on him.

Suddenly unable to wait any longer he climbed on top of her. She reached up for him, pulling him on top of her. She reached up and kissed him, and he moaned into her mouth.

He positioned himself and smoothly slid into her. She was soaking wet and he realized he was would probably cum after one stroke at this rate. Still, he slowly started to move.

He stopped almost immediately when he came to the conclusion that he had never felt anything better than Michonne in all his days of living, and probably never would.

"Rick," whined Michonne, and she gently started moving her hips.

"Wait," he panted, burying his face in her shoulder and inhaling deeply. "Give me a minute."

"I've given you _months_."

He looked up at her. "Don't act like you knew any more than I did."

"Of course I knew," Michonne told him. "Just like you knew. We just didn't know we knew."

Rick smiled and kissed her again, and then slowly started moving again. Michonne immediately started moving her hips to meet his. Rick cursed, seeing stars, and then sped up as the pleasure became overwhelming. Michonne clung to him, whimpering his name, as he started moving faster and faster.

Unable to stop himself Rick reached rapid speed, Michonne keeping up with him.

Their flesh slapping together Michonne rose up and met his thrusts, arching her back and locking her legs around Rick. He moaned and whispered her name, trying to last and knowing he wouldn't be able to.

"I love you," Rick stuttered out, and Michonne choked out a gasp and unraveled, violently, digging her nails into skin as her body bucked. Rick came once she clenched around him. He had never known it could feel like this. He hadn't known this was humanly possible.

Exhausted Rick rolled off of her, breathing hard, his body slick with sweat, his body aching. He reached out for her, kissing her, already thinking about what he would do to her next.

She slid her fingers up his face and through his hair, her eyes locking with his. "I love you too," she told him softly.

He nodded, having already knew the answer. If he loved her, then of course she loved him back.

It was just the way they worked.


	144. Consequences

_Prompt—"_ _Um, continuation of that scene in the cell and what happened between the end of the kiss and the morning before they left for Hilltop with the rest of TF, i.e., both of them talking to Carl about his suicide mission, cleaning up the kitchen and bathroom that Negan's trifling a** left a mess, putting Judith to bed, and then them further affirming that they're on the same page now on their pallet of love, lol! Yeah, I think that would make a great fanfic:)_ _" –courtgirl26_

 _Yes, yes, yes, YES to you being in my head!_

 **CONSEQUENCES**

 **Rated T**

Michonne pulled her pants back on as Rick did the same, both of them sharing soft and shy smiles with each other as they continued to get dressed. When they were fully clothed Michonne cleared her throat.

"You ready to talk to your son?" asked Michonne.

"Oh, he's jus' my son now? Because I'm pretty sure you two went and did the _exact_ same thing."

Michonne cringed. "I—"

"I'm not mad at you. Not like I'm mad at him. You think things through. He… he was bein' hotheaded, and irresponsible and—"

"A teenager," Michonne stated softly.

Rick paused and looked at her. "We don't have time for hormonal, irrational behavior. He should have been here, helping watch Judith." Rick finished buckling his belt and the two of them made their way out of the cell and back home.

They passed Spencer and Olivia's bodies on the way and Michonne took special care not to look at them. Opening the door to the house Michonne found Carl sitting on the couch, Rosita next to him.

Michonne glanced at Rick, who arched an eyebrow.

"Rosita? Everything all right?" asked Rick, stepping forward.

Rosita didn't immediately respond. She just kept looking down, her face paler than usual. When she did finally look up at them her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"I was supposed to have dinner with Spencer tonight." Michonne met Rick's eye and then slowly walked towards Rosita. "We weren't even serious. He was jus'… something to _do_ after Abe…." Rosita's voice trailed. "But he had a plan. It was stupid. But it was a plan." She looked down again. "I guess I can relate to that." Both Michonne and Rick remained quiet. Rosita looked up and met Rick's eyes. "I know the things Spencer said about you, and the things he said to you. He was angry. I get it. Anger makes you stupid, and stupid gets you killed. It certainly did in Spencer's case. But he was trying to help." Rosita took a deep breath. "I have to believe that. So…" rising she looked up at them. "I want to bury him. Next to his mother, maybe."

Michonne gently stepped forward. "I'll help."

Rosita stared at Michonne and nodded, then made her way out of the house. They watched her go and then turned towards to Carl.

He stared blankly at both of them.

"Carl," started Rick, taking a deep breath.

"Dad, I can explain," Carl said.

"Yah, well, you need to."

"What were you _thinking_ , Carl?" asked Michonne.

"The same thing you were," Carl challenged back.

Michonne blinked. "I had _no_ plans to attack Negan and/or get myself killed. I was looking for intel and intel only. Something to bring back to your father."

"I just wanted to do _somethin'_."

"And if you had been killed in the process?" inquired Michonne, stepping a little closer. Carl looked down. "Oh, I get it. You, what, have some sort of death wish?"

"I wouldn't care if I was dead if it meant everyonen else got to live."

"You weren't bein' a martyr, you were bein' selfish," Rick snapped. "You wanna be a grown up, then _act_ like one. Understand your actions have consequences, Carl."

Michonne laid a gentle hand on Rick's arm to stop him, before he said something he regretted. It didn't seem to matter, though. Carl seemed to know what his father was thinking.

"I get if I hadn't gone to Negan's, he wouldn't have had to bring me back, and Spencer and Oliva would still be alive. I _know_ that, okay?"

"You know that _now_. Did you know that when you went out there? Did you _think_ about that _then_?"

Carl didn't respond.

"Yah. I didn't think so. Now what Michonne did? What an _adult_ did, was gather enough information so that we could figure out what to do. So we can figure out if it it's worth it. Did you think about what could have happened to _you_? To your _sister_? What it would be like, while I'm riskin' my ass out there, to come home to find you dead? To find _Judith_ dead?"

"I'm _sorry_ , okay?" yelled out Carl, and the silence was deafening. "I'm sorry."

Rick stared at Carl for several moments before finally nodding. "I want you to clean this place up. Every _inch_. I want it spotless. And then I want you to go straight to bed. We have an early day tomorrow. We're goin' to the Hilltop." Carl stared at Rick for several seconds, until his father nodded. "Yah. Yah, we're gonna fight. Now get to work."

Carl nodded and headed to the kitchen. Rick turned towards Michonne.

"I'm gonna help Rosita bury Spencer," Michonne stated.

Rick nodded. "Okay. I'll have Gabriel help me with Olivia, then I'll check in on Aaron. See you upstairs later?"

Michonne sent him a soft smile. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

Rick nodded again. "Good."

…

Later on that night Rick came home to find Michonne in Judith's room. She was clearly fresh out the shower, her bathrobe tied around her frame. Rick came up behind her, staring at their sleeping child.

"You were right," he told her. "We gotta do this for her."

Michonne looked up at him, smiling. "You were married once, and long enough to know that the woman is _always_ right. Don't ever forget that."

Rick sent her a smirk and Michonne walked towards the door. "Say goodnight to Judith and then… come on to bed." She lowered her robe enough to show him that she was naked underneath her robe. Rick grinned as she winked at him and disappeared, Rick a few paces behind her.

They would fight. They _had_ to fight. Because they were fighters, and it was what they did best. They fought because they _loved_.

So tomorrow they would gather up a few of them, and they would go to the Hilltop. And they would start to plan.

Consequences be damned.


	145. Loving Her

_One of the many different scenarios on when Rick might tell Michonne ILY_

 **LOVING HER**

 **Rated M**

It was rushed, hurried, and desperate: months of unrealized and unresolved sexual tension, unraveling before either of them could fully get their clothes off. Where things had been slow and deliberate downstairs, the two of them couldn't seem to get to each other fast enough up here.

"Rick," whispered Michonne, fumbling with pants.

"I'm tryin," Rick responded against her lips. She wasn't exactly making it easy. He moved her hands aside and undid his own pants while she slid out of hers. Seemingly in a rush Michonne didn't let him fully take off his pants. She pulled him to her the minute his pants were down, her lips crushing his. They fell onto the bed, Michonne's sword hitting the floor.

"Shit," she cursed softly, and they briefly broke away from each other. She reached across the bed, grabbed her sword, and placed it against the nightstand, and Rick took that time to pick up his gun and place it on the nightstand next to him.

"Where were we?" asked Rick, pulling her towards him, and never breaking apart, they found themselves back on the bed, Rick struggling to get at least one pants leg out as he attempted to swallow Michonne's tongue.

Her body arched into his, proving she was ready, and he took that as his cue. He positioned himself, briefly looked down, the question on the tip of his tongue: _Are you sure_? Her heavily lidded eyes, even darker than usual and filled with lust, was all the answer he needed.

He entered her, trying to go slowly, though it didn't work out that way. The second the tip was in she moaned, locked her legs around his waist, and thrusted up.

So much for adjusting to him.

She cried out, whether from pleasure or pain Rick was unsure. His own head was spinning as he squeezed his eyes shut, the pleasure immediately overwhelming him.

Panting Rick buried his head in the crook of her neck, and after several moments of labored breathing Michonne dug her nails into his back.

"Move, Baby," she nearly whined, and Rick happily obliged. He buried himself into her, a curse on his lips as she started to meet his thrusts with counterthrusts of her own.

"Shit," grunted Rick, and against his will he loudly called her name. Michonne's fingers made their way up to his curls and she tugged, forcing his lips on hers.

He sped up, pumping harder, and she surprised him by bucking and then cuming, and without meaning to, he followed suit.

Breathing hard he waited for his brain to catch up with the rest of his senses. Eventually he registered that his weight was probably crushing Michonne, so he moved off of her.

"That time didn't count," breathed Rick, and Michonne laughed. Rick glanced at her, feeling happier than ever.

"I can't believe we just did that," Michonne said.

Rick reached out and grabbed one of her 'locs, his eyes locking with hers. "Really? I can."

Michonne stared at him quizzically. "Really?"

"Yah. I mean… who else would it be, except you?" He gently caressed her cheek. "I've wanted you for a long time." He wasn't sure how long, but he knew it was the truth.

Michonne continued to stare at him, her dark eyes still filled with surprise.

"I love you." He said the words simply, but he'd never meant it more than he did in this moment. This… was different. What he had with her… what he felt with her, was different.

Michonne's eyes softened and she smiled at him. then her lips were on his, and he kissed her back.

"I love you too," she finally said once she drew back.

This time he was determined to take his time with her. He pulled her up so that they were eyelevel, and started peeling off her remaining clothes, starting with her headband. He ran his fingers through a few of her locs, suddenly even more fascinated with them. Then he lifted her shirt over her head, flinging the shirt behind him.

Rick kept his eyes glued to Michonne as he reached behind her and unhooked her bra. He let it fall to the floor and held her gaze for several moments before finally stepping back and looking her over.

She was _perfection_.

"Are you going to stare at me all night or do I get to undress you?" Her voice was teasing, her tone light, but it was enough to make his skin prickle. He figured he looked utterly ridiculous with one pants leg off and his shirt half off of his body.

He motioned for Michonne to do as she pleased, their eyes locked the entire time. There was something extremely erotic about keeping eye contact as she undressed him, only taking him in once he was fully naked.

She stepped up to him and kissed him.

He'd take his time with her this time. He was determined to get to know every inch of her body.

He'd think of it as loving her.


	146. Say My Name

_On the TiTTD website we were talking about names of endearment and the question was asked what names Michonne might call Rick. Some of us (including me) thought it was OOC for both parties, and one user (box5angel) claimed, "I think good 'ol Rick sounds fine to me. We don't hear her say it enough on the show. So, when we do hear her say it, it's a nice surprise. Plus, there's different ways for her to say it when she's sweet on him, angry with him, just plain horny, etc." This, in term, made me think of a one-shot: the many different ways Michonne might say Rick's name. SO excited for this._

 _Don't ask me when this takes place. I have no idea LOL._

 _Title is a play on words, and taken from the group Beyonce's Destiny. (Oops, I mean Destiny's Child)._

 **SAY MY NAME, SAME MY NAME**

 **Rated M for smut**

Rick had never particularly cared for his name. Not that he ever _really_ thought about it, but if he had had the chance to name himself, he wouldn't have picked. It wasn't even short for Richard or anything – he was just _Rick_.

He had made peace with that many years ago, but now, suddenly his name took on a whole new meaning.

It was something about the way that Michonne said his name that always sent Rick over the edge.

He never knew his name could sound so wonderful.

He never thought he could appreciate it so.

Even when she was angry with him, his name sounded amazing coming from her lips.

It wasn't like she was angry with him often. Every now and then, sure. Fights happened when people fell in love.

Michonne was never really one to raise her voice. She was hardly loud. He had learned to decipher her tones as time passed, and she had distinct ways that she called his name when she felt a particular way.

When she was upset with him her voice would always have a slight edge to it, with a hint of warning in her voice as she said his name. Her face was normally marginally hardened as she stared at him, and he would know that he was in trouble.

He didn't get in trouble often, thank goodness. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of Michonne's temper. He'd seen her in action, and he knew what going against Michonne meant.

He knew her tone of voice when she was sad. Michonne had a distinct quiver in her voice when she saddened. He didn't hear it often. He remembered hearing it one time when Judith had called her Mom for the first time. It had been unexpected and Michonne hadn't known how to respond. She'd just gently called his name, and he took that as his cue, grabbing Judith and letting Michonne go.

Sometimes, on rare nights, she would dream of Andre, and it was the only time Rick ever truly saw Michonne vulnerable. For a brief moment in time her son was alive again, and to wake up and remember that that wasn't the case, she always just whispered her name, a soft sadness in her voice as she did.

Rick had heard panicked a few times. Her voice came out sharp, and always high-pitched, always laced with fear. One of the things he loved most about Michonne was her ability to keep a cool head whenever the occasion called for it. She was rarely panicked. But when she was, he could always tell because of the way she called out his name.

Rick had a soft spot for the way Michonne called his name when she was touched. There wasn't a lot of time for surprises in the apocalypse, but every now and then he could do something that caught her completely off guard.

Like the one time he'd gone out on a run and picked a dozen or so flowers from a random field and surprised her with them. She had taken on the same tone as when he'd handed her that pack of mints.

One of his absolutely favorite ways that she said his name, though, was when she was horny – when she _wanted_ him. It was all husk and her voice was deep. It had a tone of "Do me, Baby," and it always sent a shock through his system. It made him want her like never before, every single time. His desire for her never wavered and never failed. He had never known his name could sound so sensual and stimulating until she made it clear that she wanted him inside of her.

But there was no better way than to hear her say his name like _this_. Even more than when she was angry, sad, panicked, or surprised, what made his name sound so incredible… what made his name worth _everything_ , was when she was underneath him, moaning his name.

It was the most erotic sound ever, and had the ability to make him appreciate his name like never before. He _loved_ his name when it fell from her lips in the heat of the moment. The passion she felt… the way his name was always spoken so breathlessly… it was enough to drive him crazy, every single time.

It was a joy to watch her as they made love. She was strong, passionate, fearless, _powerful_ , yet he could make her quiver. He could make her lose control, speak his name when she didn't even want to, call his name over and over and over and _over_ again.

It was the way she moaned it into his ear, her voice high-pitched, panting, and pleasure laced throughout it. The way she whispered his name when she released was the sexiest thing he'd ever known.

It was a personal declaration of how much she loved him, how much she couldn't control herself when he was inside of her. It was a way for him to gage how she wanted it, what she wanted, and when she wanted it. How she said his name told him if he should speed up, slow down, go harder, take it easy, turn her around, bend her over, have her sit on his face, pick her up, or fuck her until she screamed.

He'd always _known_ her. Maybe not from day one, but it hadn't taken them that long once they had started to get to know each other for him to be able to _get_ her. He paid attention, he credited it to being a cop for all those years, so it wasn't difficult to learn who she was and what made her tick.

Figuring out which pitch in her voice meant what whenever she said his name wasn't that hard.

And dear God was it worth it.

Just to have her moving underneath him, his name a continuous whimper in his ear, was the most amazing thing ever.

"Rick," Michonne whispered in his ear, and he sped up, hard, as Michonne's body responded to his penetration. He grunted as he stared at her, transfixed by her beauty, and her body bucked. She moaned his name again and he knew she was close to climaxing.

Michonne groaned and choked out his name as the orgasm hit her full force. Rick followed closely behind, a string of curses on his lips as the sound of his name escaped Michonne's lips.

She clung to him for several more seconds before finally loosening her grip. He breathed deeply, inhaling her scent, his face buried in her neck, before slowly rolling off of her.

It took them several moments to talk. It always did. Eventually they situated themselves under the cover and Michonne rested her head on his chest.

"Goodnight, Michonne," he whispered into the darkness.

And as was their custom, Michonne's voice thick with sleep, she'd whisper back, "Goodnight, Rick," and it'd force a grin on his face.

Despite every other way she said his name, this way was perfection: the way she ended the day with 'Goodnight Rick', which was the same way she started every morning, with a 'Good morning, Rick.' The way she said Rick when she was close to sleep, the same way she sounded when he woke her up by peppering her with kisses, was lined with love.

And he would do anything to keep _that_ part of his name from never changing.


	147. The Sound of his Heart

**THE SOUND OF HIS HEART**

 **Rated T+**

Michonne had been well-aware of the sound of her beating heart ever since she had arrived back at the refugee camp and found that the defenses were down. She remembered the harsh _thump, thump_ against her ribcage, and how it became more pronounced as she stared at her son, dead but still very much alive.

It seemed to be reminding her that _she_ was very much alive, while those she loved the most no longer were.

As time progressed Michonne remembered several other occasions when her heart thumped: the time, after the prison fell, when she close to living amongst the dead again and she had seen that walker that looked eerily similar to her – she had killed her, killed them all, her heart pounding, reminding her that she was very much alive; when she found Rick and Carl in that house; when Rick said that they would go to Washington; when she found out Aaron was telling the truth; when they pulled up to the gates of Alexandria; when Ron pointed that gun at Rick; when Rick ran off into the herd after Carl's eye was shot.

But nothing… _nothing_ had ever made her heart thump like this.

Then again, Rick had never kissed her like this.

 _No one_ had ever kissed her like this.

His lips were firm, assertive… possessive, even.

Her heart nearly stopped when Rick climbed on top of her. His aggressiveness was such a change of pace that Michonne didn't know if she was coming or going. When his hand grabbed her thigh her body responded before her brain could.

And then he was practically on top of her, and all she wanted was for this moment to last forever.

He mentioned something about his gun holster – and she responded cheekily (" _Oh, is that what that is_?"). He gave her a smirk, mentioned that wasn't _all_ that was, and then removed the gun holster.

She didn't quite know how to respond to Rick being on top of her, but her body seemed to know exactly what to do. She arched her back, placing her hands on his face, wanting to touch him, needing to touch him.

Was there anything better than touching him?

Michonne realized she needed to find out, and quickly. When he snaked his arms underneath her shirt, cupping her breasts, she let out a moan that surely would wake the entire house.

"We should go upstairs," he told her, and she nodded. He slid off of her and together they made their way upstairs – somehow, some way. She was currently unaware of _how_ they made it up there, but they did.

She walked into his room, well aware of every single part of her body. Everything seemed to tingle and she was overly aware of every single finger, every toe, every limb. She was well aware of walking to his dresser and putting her sword down as he walked on the other side, taking his gun and placing it down on the nightstand, along with his watch.

She suddenly felt shy as she walked towards him, but she also felt like a _woman_ for the first time in forever, and her heart thumped happily inside of her chest.

For two people who hadn't crossed that line before, Rick seemed to be totally in tune with her body. He took off her shirt, lifting it over her head, and then did the same to his so that they could finally be body to body.

He felt like heaven on earth. He made her believe in heaven again, even though the world was clearly hell.

Rick set her body on fire, until she thought her heart might explode.

His kissed made her feel as if her heart might fly out if its chest. Suddenly she realized how _alive_ she was. They had been surrounded by so much death for so long that she forgot what truly being alive meant. _This_ was the moment she had been waiting for. This is what she had been fighting for all this time.

He was all over her, she was all over him, they were all over each other, and they couldn't get to each other quick enough. She attempted to kiss him, attempted to devour him, really, and he seemed just as anxious to do the same.

Pretty soon they were fumbling with the rest of each other's clothes, attempting to rid the other of their clothes. She fumbled with his holster and belt buckle and he tugged at her leggings, all the while kissing each other.

Michonne heard the sound of Rick's holster fall to the floor and she immediately reached for the buttons on his jeans, sliding her hands down the front of his pants and gripping him. Rick jerked and cursed, and that seemed all the invitation they needed.

Suddenly, as if by magic, her pants were off, then his pants were off, and then they were falling on the bed, their kisses purposeful and their hands wandering.

When Rick's lips settled around her breasts she arched her back, ready for him.

Desperate for him.

"Rick, please," she whispered, and she wasn't above begging, she realized.

He looked at her, his eyes dark blue. She could see the question in his eyes, if she was sure she wanted to take this step, because there was no going back after this. She answered by sliding her arms around his neck, her fingertips brushing Rick's curls, and firmly placing her lips on his.

She didn't break away until she felt him inside of her. She gasped, attempting to adjust to him. He gave her a few moments before he slowly started to move in and out of her.

She had never known a greater feeling than having Rick on top of her, grunting in her ear, kissing her lips, touching her all over. She felt the most amazing feeling in the pit of her stomach, and it made her shout out his name, thrust her hips back at him, and scratch at his back.

Her orgasm was muffled against his lips. He seemed to have the uncanny ability to already know her body, and she couldn't say she was all that surprised.

What _did_ surprise her was her need to flip them over and climb on top of him and rock into him until she came again. This time he didn't silence her, he just stared at her, clearly transfixed, and her unraveling caused him to cum.

She fell, absolutely exhausted, her heart pounding, and buried her face in his neck, breathing in deeply. She felt his hands start caressing her back and eventually she moved off of him.

"That was everything I never knew I wanted," she breathed. Rick chuckled beside her, their bodies still completely intertwined.

"Certainly was amazin'," stated Rick. She gave him a soft grin and the two of them stared at each other.

He moved his hand below her waist, their legs interlocked, and she reached up and placed her hand right above his chest.

She fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.


	148. Understanding Carl

_Another missing scene, because I KNOW Rick and Carl MUST have had a conversation about Carl sneaking off to Negan's. They HAD to have. So what was that convo? How did Rick go from that murderous look when Negan told him what Carl had done, to Carl being allowed to go to Hilltop? There's an answer in the form of a prompt!_

 _Prompt—"_ _after the cell scene Rick and Michonne are cleaning the mess that negan left or making Carl clean it up_ _." –Guest_

 _Yes, there was already a prompt similar to this, but I changed it up somewhat._

 **UNDERSTANDING CARL**

 **Rated T**

Rick looked around, attempting to keep his anger in check, as he noticed the mess that Negan had made in the kitchen. He took everything in, noting the dishes on the counter, the half-eaten plates of spaghetti, the flour on the floor.

"Clean it up," Rick said. " _All_ of it."

Carl sighed loudly. "All right."

"And then I want you to go upstairs and clean up the mess Negan made in my bathroom." Carl nodded, Rick glaring at him all the while. "I'm gonna put your sister to bed and then check on the rest of the community."

Without so much as a backwards glance, Rick headed upstairs, his body stiff. Carl stared after him for several moments, delaying the moment he had to look into a pair of dark brown orbs that would no doubt be filled with disappointment.

"Go ahead," sighed Carl, finally looking at Michonne.

She just arched an eyebrow.

"I know you wanna say something. You were really quiet when my dad laid into me."

Michonne shrugged, leaning against the island. "I'm not sure it's really my place." Carl just stared at her, so, shifting, Michonne sighed. "Why'd you do it?"

Carl looked at her. "Why did you?" There was almost a challenge there.

"I told you before I left that I needed to figure things out."

"And did you?"

"Yah," nodded Michonne, "I did. What did you find out?"

Carl didn't answer. He just sighed heavily and started cleaning up. Michonne kept quiet, just continued to watch him as he continued cleaning.

"You know I wouldn't change anything," he snapped. "If I could do it all over again, I would."

"Even if that means loss of your life?"

"It'd be worth it if Negan lost his life too."

"Would it? _Would_ it?" Michonne stared at him, saw the fire in Carl's eyes. "Your dad said you killed two of Negan's men."

"Yah, I did."

"How close were you to Negan?" Carl looked at Michonne. She saw the answer in his eyes. "Why didn't you?" Carl remained silent. "Negan called you a future serial killer, out there in the woods. But you're not. You are _not_ a monster. I get why you did what you did. But if your father had gotten word that you were killed… it would have _destroyed_ him, Carl. Did you think about that when you did what you did?"

"Did _you_?"

Michonne inhaled sharply. "I left with every intention on coming back here to your father, and to you, and to Judith. But this isn't about me. It's about _you_. You're angry at your dad, and that's fine. A lot of people are. But killing yourself is no way to get back at him. Not when he's trying so hard to keep you alive."

Carl shook his head and walked over to the table to start clearing it.

"Your father had to think things through, just like I did. But any steps I might have made today would have been ignored if something had happened to you. You wanna be a man, Carl? You wanna make decisions? _Stop_ letting your anger run you. Stupid gets you _killed_ , Carl. I have already buried one son. Don't ask me to bury another. And for damn sure don't put your father in a position of having to go through the same pain I did."

Carl closed his eyes. Michonne always had the ability to make him feel like shit without ever having to raise her voice. When he finally looked up again Michonne had turned her back on him.

"I'm sorry," stated Carl softly. "I didn't think about that."

"You didn't think period." She headed towards the front door, but stopped before she walked outside. "And I'm not the one you owe an apology to."

With those words, she walked out and slammed the door shut.

…

Carl made his way out of his father's room and down the hall to Judith's, where he found his dad standing over Judith's bed.

Carl didn't immediately say anything. He just walked up to his dad and stood next to him, both of them standing in silence as they watched her sleep.

"You finished cleanin'?" asked Rick, not looking at him.

Carl nodded. "Yah."

Rick glanced at Carl and then made his way out of Judith's room, Carl behind him. They walked in silence down the hall, stopping at Carl's bedroom door.

"I know when I asked earlier you said he didn't, but are you _sure_ Negan didn't hurt you?"

Carl looked at his father, their identical blue eyes trying to read the other. Eventually Carl shook his head. "No. I told you everything that happened." Rick took a deep breath, and looked away from him. "I'm sorry," Carl finally stated. Rick stared back at him. "I wasn't thinking. Not rationally, at least."

"What _were_ you thinkin'?"

"I wanted to kill him," admitted Carl. "But I didn't. I _couldn't_. And I don't know why." And a part of him still regretted it. Would probably _always_ regret it. "I'm sorry for sneakin' off. For not being trustworthy. I wanna be a better son. I wanna be a better _brother_."

Rick felt the tears but wouldn't let them fall. He stepped to Carl, cupping the back of his head and leading Carl to his chest. "You're a good son, Carl," whispered Rick. Carl squeezed his eyes shut. "You are. And I damn sure am workin' on bein' a better father. I'm not perfect. None of us are perfect. We're tryin' to make it in this new world…."

Rick gently pushed Carl back so that he could look at him. "I told you once that you were a man. That still stands. But I don't want you goin' off thinkin' you can handle things on your own. None of us can handle Negan by ourselves. Michonne saw the compound, so did you. You know we don't have the numbers."

"But we still need to _fight_ ," Carl argued fiercely.

Rick nodded. "Yah. Yah we do. Your little stunt proved that. As did Rosita tryin' to kill Negan. Michonne… none of us are used to goin' down quietly." Carl blinked at his father. "That's why I want you to come downstairs in about half an hour. I'm havin' a meeting."

Carl stepped back. "To fight?"

Rick nodded. "I wasn't gonna tell you. Wasn't sure you were ready or mature enough, but the truth is… we can't do this without you. But you have to _trust_ me, Carl. You don't know everything. Hell, I'm way older than you and I'm still learnin'. The only way this works out for us – for _all_ of us – is if we're on the same page. Can you do that?"

"Yes," responded Carl without hesitation.

Rick stared at his son for several moments: took in his dark locks, longer than ever. Took in the piercing blue eyes, blue eyes that had seen more things than any child should have to had seen. Took in his stance, damn near identical to Rick's.

"Okay, then," Rick nodded. "Be downstairs in thirty minutes."

Carl watched as his father turned and continued on down the hall, presumably to his own bedroom to wash up, the weight of the world clearly on his shoulders.

But Carl was convinced that that weight would be lifted soon. Together they would take Negan down.


	149. Working Up To It

_Prompt—"loved it! you should make a sequel for michonnes reaction." –Guest_

 _This is in response to Chapter 100 where TF notices Rick's wedding ring is off._

 **WORKING UP TO IT**

 **Rated K**

Michonne felt him long before she heard his boots clink on each rung of the latter as he climbed his way up the guard post. She kept her eyes straight ahead, scoping out the same forest she'd been looking at for the past several hours.

Neither of them spoke for a few moments, even as he stood next to her, staring ahead at the forested field.

"How's Carl?" she asked softly, finally glancing at him.

"Better. He keeps askin' about you," responded Rick. "You headin' straight home?"

 _Home_.

She ignored the swoop in her belly, shifting her feet to convince herself she hadn't felt anything at all.

"Of course," she answered. "Who else is gonna make dinner for Carl and Judith? Your cooking's impossible, and Daryl should definitely stick to catching."

Rick arched an eyebrow. "Didn't hear you complainin' when we were out the road a few months ago."

"Yah, well, we were desperate then, weren't we? It was different."

Rick nodded. "Yah, it was different. I can't cook for _shit_."

Michonne let out a laugh. "You said it, not me."

Rick chuckled, and then reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "We're real grateful for what you do," he told her softly.

Her hand automatically went to his and she squeezed it affectionately.

She tried not to let her eyes follow his hand as it rested back on the rail, but her eyes seemed to have a mind on their own.

Her mouth went dry when she noticed the tan line where his ring finger was supposed to be.

She wouldn't ask.

She _wouldn't_ ask.

When Rick's watch beeped signifying it was officially his turn to take watch, she tried not to jump down the latter and scurry home. She tried to remain calm, even though there were a million things running through her mind.

Things she didn't want to think about.

Things she didn't have _time_ to think about.

They made small talk for a few more moments, Michonne grateful for the distraction.

Without mentioning the lack of a wedding ring, Michonne finally made her way home, ignoring the fact that it was starting to take on a much deeper meaning.

* * *

A/N: For those who didn't pick up on it, the title is taken from the line Michonne says to Spencer is 6x10 in regards to Deanna wanting her to figure out what she wants out of life


	150. The Weekend Alone

Same Universe as 66, 91, and 140

 **THE WEEKEND ALONE**

 **Rated M for smut**

Rick moaned into Michonne's mouth, trying to figure out how the hell he was going to kiss her and allow her to open the door. It was physically impossible to pin someone against their own front door and open said front door at the same time.

"Soon as the Penthouse becomes available," she mumbled against his mouth, "I'm taking it. Elevator takes us right on up."

He thought it was a fair statement, figuring the elevator is what got them to this point in their lives. What started as an innocent, chaste kiss quickly turned into something hot and heavy, and they hadn't been able to unglue themselves off of each other. They stumbled down the hallway, their lips locked, until they'd reached her door, and after ten minutes they still hadn't gotten any further.

"Good idea," Rick mumbled back, and his lips made their way to her throat. She ran her fingers through his thick curls, offering him better access to her neck and letting out a low moan.

When his hands snaked up the inside of her dress she jerked.

"Inside. _Now_ ," said Michonne, breathless.

"I'm _tryin'_ ," Rick said, without thinking.

Michonne felt herself smirking. "I mean inside the house. We can't do this out here." She finally gently pushed him away and turned around, fumbling in her gold clutch to find her keys. It felt like _forever_ before she finally got the key in the hole – her entire body seemed to be shaking with desire, and she fumbled and dropped the keys at least twice before finally finding the ability to open the door.

As soon as they were back inside she was all over him again.

It took him picking her up and pinning her against the wall when they both realized that this was probably going to happen this time. His lips traveled down to her throat, and then further towards her breasts. He moved her dress aside and placed his lips over her breasts.

She jerked again and grabbed him.

"As tempting as it is, our first time isn't going to be against my front door." Rick barely heard her. He just nodded and let her go, and then Michonne pulled him by his tie and led their way to her bedroom.

Once her bedroom door was closed _she_ pinned _him_ against the door, and her hands were everywhere: his hair, his face, his chest, and then—

Rick jumped when Michonne's hands made their way inside his pants. He cursed softly as she gripped him, too turned on and shocked to say anything else. Her hands were warm and distracting and absolutely _glorious_ and _if she kept that up she wouldn't get any pleasure at all_. He felt his head fall back and his eyes roll back.

"'Chonne," grunted Rick. "It's been over a year. You might wanna stop."

"Oh, you want me to stop?" He could hear the smirk in her voice but he still looked at her under heavily lidded eyes. He returned her smirk and then his eyes widened as she unzipped his pants and shoved them below his waist, his boxers included, and then she lowered her head….

 _Holy shit_ was his last conscious thought, and then her warm lips wrapped around him and all he saw was stars. He had suspected that mouth of hers could work wonders but he never suspected _this_. It was beyond amazing, it surpassed every expectation ever, the way her tongue swirled around him, or his tip hit the back of her throat. Only a few mores seconds and he would surely combust.

"Michonne," he warned, and she must have understood, because she stopped, "Is our first time really gonna be against the bedroom door?"

"No," breathed Michonne, and together they made their way to her queen-sized bed, Rick trying not to trip over his own feet and Michonne reaching behind her back and attempting to unzip her dress.

There would be time to learn each other's bodies later.

Michonne's heels weren't even off, and Rick only had one shoe off, along with one pants leg, as he climbed on top of her. The question of if she was sure – if she was really ready for this step after eight months of dating – was answered the minute she grabbed him and guided him into her.

His entire body reacted to being inside of her: his toes curled, his fingers gripped the sheets, his hips jerked, his mouth gasped, and the rest of his body exploded.

She felt like _heaven_.

As good as it felt he didn't have the energy to move. He was afraid if he did he would combust, and it would be over before it even started. Plus he was mesmerized by her: back arched, guttural moan, eyes closed, legs wrapped tightly around him.

She looked _beautiful_.

He was frozen, mesmerized between her beauty and the pleasure. He wanted to enjoy her now, now, _now_ but at the same time wanted this moment to last forever.

"Rick, _move_ ," demanded Michonne, and she started urgently thrusting her hips upward to convince him. He cursed again, momentarily stunned, before the primal need to thrust back took over. Though it'd been over a year since he'd last done this, his body seemed to remember what to do.

A part of him wanted to slow things down and take his time with her, but his body – and Michonne – seemed to have other ideas. His hips plummeted into hers with obvious determination and despite the fact that she was _so fucking tight_ he couldn't help but slam into her.

She seemed to enjoy it; her cries of 'Yes!' seemed to echo around the room. Her verbalized pleasure was loud, breathless, and as much of a turn-on as her grunts, groans, and bodily reactions. She dug her fingers into his flesh, begged for more, and allowed him to dominate all the while telling him what she liked.

When she came for the first time he wanted to hold off and take her there again. He wanted her to be able to cum multiple times, in fact, but it felt so good that he couldn't help her: when she clenched around him he choked out her name and spilled himself into her, his body jerking and his head spinning.

He felt her body relax under his and then her arms traveled up to his hair. Her fingers gently pulled at his curls on the base of his neck and he buried his face in her neck.

"Sure woulda been nice to see what you looked like," Rick muttered, and Michonne let out a deep laugh.

"I think you'll have plenty of opportunities to do so. I'm quite curious about what you look like underneath that Sherriff uniform myself."

He looked up at her. Her face was relaxed, her body lucid. "Tonight?"

"Oh, absolutely. That was just the preface."

Rick grinned and climbed off of her. She sat up and gave him a soft, almost shy smile. He grinned back at her, pulling her towards him and kissing her.

"I'm on birth control… just so you know." Michonne's voice was quiet and Rick nodded.

"I definitely got carried away," admitted Rick. "I think my pull out game will be weak with you." He paused for a moment. "I haven't invested in condoms since my senior year of high school."

"You haven't done _anything_ since high school," Michonne teased, kissing his ear. Rick's chuckle was caught in his throat as Michonne's teeth sunk gently into his lobe. He moaned instead and he felt himself harden. "Mm. I think someone's feeling _up_ to another round."

Her voice had fallen a couple of octaves, and it was doing more to him than her lips.

He took his time with her this time around; he attempted to mesmerize every part of her gorgeous body. He kissed every scar, he licked every blemish, and he touched every part of her, his touch feather-light.

By the time he used his tongue to taste her she came within thirty seconds.

She returned the favor, quite thoroughly, and the last thing Rick remembered thinking was that it was going to be a long night.

…

When Rick woke up to the sun shining on his face, he knew at once he wasn't at home.

Almost immediately flashes of last night flashed into his head: Michonne on top, Michonne underneath him, Michonne bent over….

He'd slept with Michonne last night.

He reached over, expecting to feel her next to him, only he was hit with cool air. He opened his eyes to find the bed empty, save for her scent.

He sat up and looked around, his heart leaping once his eyes rested on the alarm clock on the table next to him. It was after eight in the morning. He jumped up, looking for his things, and only found his shoes, pants, and boxers.

He put them on, all the while searching for his shirt. After several moments he was forced to realize it was gone. He exited the room and made his way downstairs, where the smell of coffee hit his nostrils.

He stopped dead in his track when he noticed Michonne, in her kitchen, dressed in nothing more than his white button-up, a cup of tea in one hand and her tablet in another.

She looked up at him and gave him a blazing smile that he couldn't help but return.

"Well the dead has arisen," Michonne stated playfully.

"Yah, well someone kept me up all night," responded Rick with a smirk. "Pun intended, and not intended." Michonne threw back her head and laughed. "I can't believe I slept over. Carl's gonna kill me."

"I made you a cup of coffee to go," Michonne told him. "I was going to wake you once I finished my tea."

"Do you think I can get my shirt back? I haven't quite figured out what I'ma tell Carl, but walkin' in without a shirt won't be a good look."

Michonne smiled and, without a word, pulled the shirt above her head and threw it at him.

He figured he should have her on top of the counter before he left.

For good luck.

…

When Rick walked into his apartment Carl was sitting on the couch, playing video games.

"Well, well, well," Carl said immediately. "Look who finally made it home."

Rick grimaced. The entire time he had hoped Carl would still be asleep. Carl _never_ woke up early on the weekends. "I'm _so_ sorry. I fell asleep at Michonne's. I shoulda called."

"Is that all you did? Fall asleep?"

"That's all you need to know," stated Rick.

Carl smirked. "Can't say I'm not surprised." Rick grimaced again. "Relax, Dad. I'm not a kid anymore."

Rick arched an eyebrow. "You better not be as grown as you're insinuatin'."

Carl rolled his eyes. "I'm not the one who let the sun beat me home." He stood up. "Breakfast is on the table. I'm headed to Aunt Carol's and Uncle Daryl's for the weekend." Rick nodded.

"Later," Rick said, and then Carl was gone.

Rick waited a few minutes before calling Michonne and seeing if she'd be willing to come over for the weekend.


	151. Community Service

_Prompt—"_ _Naahhhh, not an iota of fluff, but it was still really good. I'd love to see this flushed out as a full story! Interesting setup. I like it a lot! :D" -_ _ElleWatt_

 _Prompt—"_ _This was a great installment! I'd love to see them all together doing community service. I hope you write more in this AU." -_ _rplee333_

" _You have to finish this. Dont leave us hanging." -Guest_

 _Prompt—_ _"_ _Hope you continue this one. You can't leave us hanging!" -_ _Danesadie_

 _References chapter 102 'Common Interests.'_

 **COMMUNITY SERVICE**

 **Rated K**

The day was colder than Rick would have liked, if he was going to be outside repainting walls.

Carl sat in the back of the car, in a moody silence. Rick didn't try too hard to make him talk. They were going to the community service to keep him from being suspended or, worse, expelled, so Carl would just have to make do.

He couldn't say he was in the best of mood's either. Lori had just confided in him that she was pregnant, and it could very well be his or, his best friend's. _Ex_ best friend, he reminded himself.

There had been a lot of back and forth there for a minute. Would they work it out, would he just divorce her? In between trying to get those questions answered they may have… slipped up a few times, and apparently she'd _slipped_ a few times with Shane, as well.

He didn't even know how to begin to tell Carl.

It was another problem for another day.

They pulled on the side of the deserted road and Rick noted that they were the last to arrive. Michonne was there, dressed casually in Nike's, leggings, and an oversized hoodie that for _whatever_ reason made Rick wonder if it belonged to a boyfriend or husband.

He let that thought trail away before he thought too hard about it.

Still, he found a frown on his face when he glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. He made an effort to straighten to his face and his blue eyes rested on his son's, who was scowling at him.

"Don't be upset with me, Son," Rick stated. "Consider yourself lucky. You coulda been suspended."

Carl's attitude seemed to deflate somewhat at those words. Rick noticed it a few times over the past week. When he wasn't angry at the world he tended to seem remorseful.

"Let's jus' get this over with," sighed Carl. "I don't even know why we had to come to this street. It's deserted."

Rick remained silent as Carl got out of the car, slamming the door unnecessarily hard as he walked towards the other group of kids, who all seemed to be around his age.

Grabbing the two Starbuck's cups, Rick made his way outside and walked up to Michonne.

She sent him a blazing smile that had his stomach doing summersaults.

"Glad to see you," she told him.

"Glad to see you too," responded Rick. He bashfully handed her a cup. "I got you green tea, and sugar." He dug into his pockets and handed her several packages.

"Thank you." She stared at him, clearly surprised. "How did you know?"

"I noticed it in your office the first time. You had a box of green tea on top of your mini fridge next to your desk."

She blinked rapidly. "Well you're certainly a cop," grinned Michonne.

"Yes, Ma'am, I am." The two stared at each other for several seconds before one of the kids cleared their throat.

"Are we gonna start sometime today, or…?"

Michonne arched an eyebrow. "That's Glenn. He can be quite the smart alec, but he's a good kid. They're _all_ good kids."

"Yah? Well what's he in for?"

"He, uh… might have borrowed the company car for a hot date."

Rick glanced as the Asian boy. " _Company car_?"

"He works for a local pizza company. His uncle's the owner. Didn't wanna press charges, but wanted his nephew to understand that that's a big no-no."

"Ya think?" laughed Rick.

"They all have stories like that. Maggie? The girl standing next to Glenn? Who, by the way, I think is completely smitten with Maggie. Guess the girl he borrowed the car from wasn't worth it. Anyway, Maggie's here for stealing a horse she suspected was being abused. She's actually from Savannah. Turns out she wasn't wrong about the horse being abused, but she definitely went about it the wrong way. She lost her mother about a year ago and the community agreed that no one should press charges, but she couldn't go unpunished."

As she talked Michonne made her way towards her car, grabbing a box of trash bags and handing them to the group of a dozen kids. Most of them seemed to be friendly with her. When she turned around to hand him his bag, she arched an eyebrow.

He took it without a word.

"So where are the rest of the parents?" Rick inquired.

Michonne shrugged. "I don't need them to be here. You? Carl needs to see you support him, no matter what. I'm gonna split the group up about halfway through. In the meantime, let him bond with some of the other kids. Some of them have been in his situation before."

Rick eyed her. "You seem to know what you're doin'."

She smiled. "They don't call me 'Doctor' for nothin'."

She walked ahead of him and he found himself grinning even wider as he rushed to keep up with her.

He couldn't help but wonder what else they called her. He'd certainly have no problem trying to find out.


	152. Sharing Spaces

_Consider this a missing scene sometime between "The Next World" when Richonne becomes canon, and "East," where Richonne are in bed together eating that apple ;)_

 **SHARING SPACES**

 **Rated M for smut**

Rick parked the RV in its designated spot and turned off the engine. Everyone else had already been dropped off and all of them seemed like they couldn't get out of the RV fast enough.

Rick couldn't blame them.

What they had done… what he had asked them to do… what they had agreed to do in regards to killing those sleepless men… well he couldn't think about what it would cost them. Not yet. All he wanted, more than anything, was to check in on Carl and Judith and sleep for a little while.

It had been a long day, an emotional day, and he just wanted to forget about it for as long as he could.

He could feel the sun beating down on his back as he made his way home, but it still felt dark. He would have to deal with fact that he'd killed a man – several men – in cold blood. Granted they weren't good people. Any doubt about that was gone the minute Maggie and Carol had been taken. They'd proven that. But they hadn't been a threat – yet. They would have been. He had to remember that.

He walked up his steps and walked inside his house. The first thing he noticed was that Daryl's door was already closed. The second thing he saw was that Michonne was holding Judith and Carl was standing next to her.

"You're certainly a sight for sore eyes," Rick stated as he shut the door behind him.

"How'd it go?" asked Carl without preamble.

Rick shrugged. "It didn't go as planned, but we all made it out alive. That's all I could ask for."

"That's basically the same thing Michonne said." Rick glanced at her and saw the soft smirk on her face. "What, are you guys rehearsing what you do and don't tell me now?"

"We do no such thing," Michonne stated, clearly offended. "No matter what, you're still my favorite guy."

"Yah, okay," smirked Carl.

"You are. You'll be happy to know you're still the only one I'd share a Big Cat with."

Carl gave her a slow smile. "Promise?"

"I promise."

Carl gave her a full smile. "I'll take Judith off your hands. You two look tired. I'll put Judith to bed and everything and see you guys tomorrow." Carl grabbed Judith and headed off before either of them could say anything.

"When the hell did he grow up?" asked Rick softly.

"Beats the hell outta me. I'm still tryin' to figure out when his voice got so deep."

"I know right. It's deeper than mine."

Michonne flashed him a grin. "No argument from me."

"That was not very nice." Michonne laughed as she made her way upstairs, Rick behind her. As they neared his room Rick's heart jumped. She hadn't been in his room since their night together – they hadn't had _time_. After heading back from Hilltop they'd spent all night plotting and planning, and the little catnaps they had gotten had taken place on the couch or at the table.

He wondered if she'd bypass his room and go to her own.

He didn't think she would. She _knew_ him – _God_ she knew him – so she could probably hear his thoughts now.

Still, just to be safe, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along to his room, his mouth immediately finding hers.

He wondered if he'd ever get tired of kissing her, and why on earth had it taken him so long to ever do such a thing.

"Shower with me," he muttered against her lips, and before he allowed her to respond his lips were hot on hers.

She responded with a soft groan, her body responding just as quickly as his. Her lips were soft and quickly undid him. He started fumbling with his belt buckle and nearly tripped as Michonne started leading him towards the shower.

He was having a difficult time trying to take her clothes off and his as the same time – he had one hand attempting to unbutton his jeans while his other hand was trying to take off her shirt – and at some point she backed him into a wall.

His brain was just starting to turn into mush when she finally pulled away. He was confused for a moment until she reached and turned on the shower and started taking off her clothes. He followed suit and together they stepped into the shower.

He took her quickly because he couldn't help himself. He'd only had her once and he'd wanted her again ever since. Once wasn't enough. It'd never be enough.

Her legs wrapped around him and he pushed into her. Her body bucked against his and he groaned, burying his face in her neck. She started to meet his thrusts. He wasn't sure how long he'd be able to last at this rate. He dug his fingers into her hips and her breath hitched.

Her name slipped from his lips without meaning to, but she followed behind him and gently called his name. He tried to think of something else – anything else – but them Michonne's lips were on his again and he found himself speeding up.

He was pretty sure he wouldn't last for too much longer.

And then she came, her back arching, and he cursed, following behind her as he pumped furiously. He slowed down as emptied himself into her and kept her in place against him until his heart returned to its normal speed.

"Move in with me," he said into her neck.

To her credit, if she was surprised she didn't let on. She didn't stiffen or gasp or say anything. She kissed his neck and then unglued herself from him. "Okay."

Rick grinned. "You were already going to."

"I was."

Rick nodded. "Well all right then."

"I want the right side of the bed."

"Is there a reason for that?"

Michonne grinned and slid her body underneath the shower head, soaking her dreads. "Because I'm your right hand man."

Rick nodded again. "Sounds about right."

Michonne sent him another smile and together they finished their shower.


	153. Essence of Zariah

"Prompt—"Perhaps you could do some prompts that include Zariah. Zariah does indeed follow Judith around (just like Michonne told her she would), but her big sister loves it. Judith loves to play dress up with the toddler and calls her her best friend. Another one shot could be with the girls slightly older (four to seven years old) where they are both being overly clingy with their Mom. This is normal for Judith, but not for Zariah who's always been a daddy's girl. She's still close to her daddy, but now she's always with Michonne or trying to get her attention, much to the annoyance of Rick and Judith. Michonne doesn't mind in the least and even finds it funny. If Carl's around he may even tease Judith and his father. Maybe the reason for the clingy behavior is that Michonne's pregnant again and the girls know they'll get less mommy time one their little brother arrives." -Guest

Decided to do a series of drabbles. They're in order, but think of them as weeks apart from each other.

 **ESSENCE OF ZARIAH**

 **Rated K**

Judith tried to hide her annoyance as Zariah followed her around. She was trying to have _patience_ as her mother called it. " _Zariah just looks up to you, is all_ ," Momma had said.

Judith refrained from rolling her eyes – barely – and thought to herself, " _She's a baby. She looks up to everyone_."

Judith was _trying_ to be patient, she really was, but Zariah had been following her for _days_ now, dragging the stupid cat stuffed animal that she'd had since birth.

"Judi, where's Momma?" asked Zariah, and Judith could tell the little girl had her thumb in her mouth.

"For the millionth time, don't call me 'Judi. I _hate_ that name," she finished in a murmur. "And for the _thousandth_ time, Momma's on watch."

"For how much longer?"

Judith shrugged. She wouldn't admit aloud, but Judith was wondering the same thing.

"Well where's Daddy? And Carl?"

"Carl moved away, remember?" Judith frowned as she said that aloud. Carl had left them. Carl had left _her_.

"I want Daddy," Zariah whined.

With a loud sigh Judith finally turned around and stared at her sister. The girl was a beauty, with her thick curly hair and big blue eyes. The two of them couldn't be any more different – where Judith was a momma's girl, Zariah was a Daddy's girl, through and through (except for when Mom was away on watch, apparently); where Judith was pale, blonde and brown, Zariah was brown, dark, and blue; where Judith had thin, straight hair, Zariah had thick, curly hair; where Judith _hated_ her nickname, Zariah loved to be called Zari.

Yet for all their differences, the minute Judith saw those tears in her baby sister's eyes Judith melted.

"Mommy will be home soon, okay?" Judith assured Zariah, grabbing her sister's hand. "Come on, let's go find Dad. I bet he's downstairs napping. Let's go wake him."

Zariah's face brightened, and together, Judith holding Zariah's hand to make sure she didn't fall the down the stairs, they made their way downstairs.

…

Judith and Rick sat on the couch, both of their arms crossed, soft scowls on their faces as they stared at Michonne and Zariah.

Michonne was in the kitchen, making dinner, and Zariah was in her arms.

Rick couldn't say _why_ he was so bothered by this fact. But a few weeks ago Zariah would normally be in _his_ arms, and it would be Judith who was in the kitchen with Michonne.

Rick stole a glance at his other daughter. She looked just as put out as he felt. She was Momma's Little Helper in the kitchen, always so quick to lend a helping hand whenever Michonne made meals.

Today that duty went to Zariah, apparently.

Zariah had been spending _a lot_ of time with Michonne lately. Normally a daddy's girl, Zari had ditched Rick for Michonne, suddenly wanting to dress like her, walk like her, _cook_ like her.

Lately she'd even taken to _borrowing_ Judith's miniature sword that Rick had gotten a few years ago on a run, replacing the toy gun Michonne had found a couple of years ago.

Judith had a full-blown tantrum, and Rick had been so shocked that something so _normal_ had happened that he had just stood there, his mouth open wide.

Michonne had swooped her up and they'd had a chat in her room, and afterwards Judith had been walking around talking about all the _patience_ she was supposed to have, though lately she had been talking about not having any left.

It seemed as if both Rick and Judith were out of patience.

At that moment the front door opened and Carl walked through the door.

"Carl!" Judith cried, jumping off the couch and into Carl's arms. He caught his sister in the air and swung her around a few times.

The boy had grown another foot since the last time Rick had seen him, and when Rick stood up they were eyelevel.

"Hey, Son," Rick said with a smile.

"Hey, Dad. Sorry I'm late."

"That's okay, we're a bit behind schedule. Michonne has a new helper."

Rick had tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice but the smirk on Carl's face proved that he hadn't done such a good job.

"Is Zari still ditching you for Mom?" grinned Carl.

"I told you," Rick growled, "she didn't ditch me. She's—"

"Shadowing her, that's right," stated Carl with an eye roll, the smirk still evident. With a shake of his head Carl made his way to the kitchen to greet Michonne and Zariah.

Rick sat back down on the couch, next to Judith, and tried not to mope as Michonne and Zariah laughed with Carl.

He didn't quite hide his scowl when Michonne sent him a wink.

…

Michonne gently ruffled Zariah's hair and then kissed her daughter goodnight. Zariah sighed into her sleep, smiling softly in the moonlight.

"She didn't do that when I kissed her goodnight," pouted Rick quietly. Michonne held in an eye roll but couldn't quite hide her grin. "She likes you better than me."

This time Michonne did roll her eyes, and shaking her head she made her way out of Zariah's room, Rick following closely behind her.

"You said the same thing about Judith," Michonne reminded Rick as the door closed behind them.

"Judith _does_ like you more than me," stated Rick as they made their way to her room – Carl's old room. "And so does Carl." Rick paused before opening Judith's door. "He's probably the one that taught Judith and Zari to like you more."

"Our children love us equally," Michonne assured Rick.

"You _have_ to say that." Michonne snorted and the two of them made their way towards Judith. Rick watched as Michonne ruffled Judith's hair, and then bent down and kissed her. Like Zari had, Judith stirred.

They _definitely_ liked her better.

"How were things while I was on watch?" asked Michonne once they were in their own room.

Rick shrugged as he started undressing, removing his gun and watch first. "Pretty uneventful. The girls took turns asking how soon it'd be before you got home." He made a face and Michonne laughed. "You're really enjoyin' all this newfound attention."

"I enjoy seeing you jealous over our five-year-old and our three-year-old," Michonne admitted. She started taking off her clothes.

"I'm not jealous," muttered Rick, pulling his shirt over his head to hide his frown. "I jus' don't understand why all of a sudden Judith _and_ Zariah gotta have _all_ your attention, _all_ the time."

Michonne arched an eyebrow. "You understand how ridiculous that sounds, right?"

"Zari used to be a daddy's girl. _You_ said it was jus' a phase, her bein' all you under you, but she hardly even knows when I'm around. It's been _weeks_."

Michonne shook her head, walking towards the bathroom and turning on the shower. "Are we really competing for our daughters' attention?"

Rick shrugged. "I suppose not."

Michonne rolled her eyes again, a playful smile on her face, and she closed the door in his face. Rick chuckled as he got in bed. He waited for Michonne to finish showering, trying not to wonder if the girls would miss him while he was on watch tomorrow.

When Michonne climbed in next to him he immediately wrapped his arms around her, inhaling her scent.

"Seriously, what do you do? Bribe our girls with Big Kat's or somethin'? Before we used to split the girls. Judith was yours, Zari was mine. Now they're both yours. How long is this phase of Zari's supposed to last?"

Michonne chuckled and turned to face him, burying her face in Rick's chest. She knew he was joking for the most part, but it _had_ felt like that up until very recently. She and Judith had formed a bond pretty early on, and when Zari was born, she had attached on to Rick immediately. When Michonne couldn't calm her down, Rick could. When Zari was fussy, it was Rick who could comfort her. Where Zari would cry for hours with Michonne, the minute she was in Rick's arms she was settled.

Michonne would have been offended if Andre hadn't been the same way.

It was scary how much alike Zari and Andre were.

And just like Andre, as Zari got older, she started to warm up to Michonne.

But Rick was right. Lately both Judith and Zari had been all over her.

And now she knew why.

"This phase might last for a little while longer," Michonne admitted quietly.

"How's that?" asked Rick, and she knew that he was mostly sleep; his accent was pretty thick right now.

She stared up into those pretty eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes that she had grown to love more than anything in the world.

"I think there's a reason why Judith and Zariah are so attached to me right now. And if my calculations are correct, they'll probably be this attached for another seven months or so." Rick remained silent. "You know babies can sense certain things…."

Rick just blinked at her, sleep clouding his dark orbs. "What sorta things?"

Michonne bit her lip. "Like when their mother is pregnant…."

Rick continued to blink at her, until his eyes widened. Then he sat up. "What? _What_?" He reached over and turned on the lantern.

Michonne slowly sat up. "I just took a test."

Rick's mouth dropped open. "When were you gonna say somethin'?"

"I was trying to wrap my mind around it, but then I started thinking about the girls. They _have_ been extra clingy lately, and now it makes sense."

Rick stared at her for several seconds. "Are… are you _sure_?"

"I _feel_ pregnant. I've been exhausted lately, my lower back hurts, my feet are swollen…. I actually thought I was startin' to get old…."

Rick chuckled and leaned over and kissed her softly. When he leaned back he cupped her cheek. "For the record… I got dibbs on this one. This child _has_ to like me more."

Michonne laughed until she snorted.

"All of our children will and do love you equally, the same way _you_ love _them_ equally. And that's the way it should be. There's plenty of love to go around."

Rick pulled her to him. "There certainly is, Mrs. Grimes. There certainly is."


	154. The Engagement

A/N: Several prompts for this, so I did it. This is the first Richonne fic I've written in over a year. It's also my last. I am afraid that I am pretty much done with TWD. The last episode I watched was 8x1. I'm sorry, I just don't care as much for the show anymore. I will not be writing any more stories, multi-chap fics, or one-shots for this. I love Richonne, I love Andy and Danai, I love a lot of the actors. I just hate the show. I find that I am bitter, annoyed, and impatient. I'm sorry our time as Richonner's didn't last as long as I would have liked, but I have no desire to continue watching this show. With that said, I hope you have enjoyed these series of one-shots. I tried to leave yall with closure, especially with this Universe.

If you'd like to keep up with me, I am still posting Hayffie. Feel free to follow, like, read, and review "Loosen Your Corset, Princess." I'm sorry to anyone whose prompts I didn't do, but this show no longer inspires me, guys.

It has been my pleasure, and my honor. You all stay blessed, and stay strong in this current administration.

Much love and respect

-idcabtthisish

* * *

"I love this universe, so glad you revisited it. Can we meet Andre next?" -RickysMichy

-and-

"I love this AU. Can you write one with Rick interacting with Andre? We haven't met him yet. Maybe it could be when he's about to propose to Michonne." -MannaRN

-and-

"You're on fire! I love this version of Richonne. I'm so glad you keep revisiting. They are so sweet. Can you write something with them all get together for an outing?" -mtownrichonner

These are referring to Chap 66, 91, and 140.

 **THE ENGAGEMENT**

 **Rated M for smut**

Rick stopped the car and Carl was swinging the back door open before the car was all the way off. Rick saw him walking passed the car, their overnight bags swung over his shoulder, and he stopped in front of the car, turning around to face Rick.

"Well come on Dad," called Carl, and Rick smirked, taking off his seatbelt and getting out of the car, pocketing his keys and heading to the back to grab Judith. She gave him a smile and Rick smiled back, and after locking his car door Rick and Carl made their way, following the trail, Judith in Rick's arms.

Carl was clearly excited about going camping. It wasn't their first time camping, but it was their first time camping with Michonne and Andre, and Carl apparently couldn't wait.

Neither could Rick, if he was being honest.

This weekend was about to be _different_.

Special, even.

They made their way down the trail, Carl practically skipping, the fall wind blowing in their faces. It was cooler than usual, and Rick hoped that they wouldn't be too cold tonight.

"Will you slow down?" called Rick. "The camping ground will still be there when we arrive."

"I've been waiting for this trip for _weeks_ ," Carl said. "It's gonna take us like twenty minutes to get there, and Michonne and Andre will be here soon. I at least wanna have our tent up by then."

It turned out they didn't really have to rush for anything. When they got to their designated campsite, Michonne was already there.

Carl stopped and stared ahead, Rick nearly bumping into him. His hand automatically went to his hip, even though his gun wasn't there. "What? What is it?" asked Rick.

"Michonne," Carl responded, and moved aside so that Rick could see that Michonne was already there, setting up the tent.

"Hey," called Rick, his heart pounding at the sight of her. It was ridiculous how she still did that for him.

He nearly tripped over the smile she gave them. "Carl, Rick." She waved, wiping her hands absentmindedly on her leggings, and walked towards them, turning towards Andre who was already running ahead. Andre collided with Rick's legs, wrapping his toddler arms around Rick.

"Hey, Andre," smiled Rick, bending down and kissing the top of his curls. Then Andre ran to Carl, who leaned down and picked him up. "What are you guys don' here?" Rick leaned down and kissed Michonne when she approached him. "We weren't expectin' you for another couple of hours."

"I couldn't concentrate at work today, so I closed shop early, ran to the store, got some things, and we made our way here."

"We had a tent," Rick pointed out.

Michonne smiled, leaning in for another kiss. "I got us a bigger one. C'mon, you guys are just in time to start helping."

"I will do no such thing," said Rick. "I'm on baby watch. Carl can help, though."

"Well you can pour the wine," Michonne said, flashing him another smile.

"I can do that too."

Rick held Judith and Andre in his lap, the two of them laughing and playing. He watched the way Carl and Michonne worked together, the way they interacted. Carl respected Michonne in a way that he didn't respect his own mother, and Rick was trying to get him to work through that. But honestly Carl and Michonne had just had a better connection. They trusted each other, Michonne had proven her loyalty, and honestly, Carl seemed happy again.

Rick had been dating Michonne for two years now, and he was even more in love with her than before. Every day she did something to make him fall in love with her even more.

Like now, and the way she was splitting her Big Kat with Carl, even though it was her last one.

"We always share," she told him," and Carl thanked her and stuffed the whole candy in his mouth, causing Rick to chuckle lightly to himself. Andre and Judith looked at him and started laughing, and it made him wonder if they had been talking about him.

"What's so funny?" asked Rick, kissing Judith and Andre. They responded, and Rick arched an eyebrow as the two laughed even harder. "Michonne, come get your kids, they're laughin' at me."

"You volunteered for baby duty, so suck it up, Sheriff. Carl and I are almost done, and then you can take a break by pouring me some wine before we start on the other tent."

"We don't need two tents, 'Chonne, seriously. We can all share."

"The bigger tent is for the kids. We have a smaller one." Rick rolled his eyes. It wasn't like anything was going to happen out here in the woods, so he didn't really see the point in having two separate tents.

Rick mock sighed. "Fine." Michonne winked at him and Rick smirked. He looked back down at Andre and Judith. "Your momma doesn't know this yet," whispered Rick, "but I'ma ask her to marry me this weekend." Andre clapped, nodding appreciatively, while Judith sent him a smile like she knew what he'd been up to all this time. "Does that mean I have you two's blessin'?"

Their claps said it all.

When Michonne and Carl were done with the tent, and Michonne had a solo cup full of wine, she took over baby duty so that Rick and Carl could go find firewood. It would be dark soon and it was already starting to cool down.

They walked together in silence for a few moments, collecting the proper things, when Rick finally spoke.

"You know I love Michonne, right?" he asked.

Carl turned and looked at Rick, their blue identical. "Yah, I know."

'Okay, good. 'Cause I told you when Michonne and I started datin' that this was different."

"And I told you it was cool. I was the one who told _you_ she was one of us."

"Yah, well, that's kinda what I wanna talk to you about. What do you think about makin' Michonne... _officially_ one of us?"

Carl stopped and stared at Rick. "Wait, what?" Rick remained silent. "Are you talking about... are you gonna ask Michonne to _marry_ you?"

Rick nodded. "Yeah. Yeah I am."

"It's about _time_ ," Carl said. "I thought I was gonna have to ask for you." Rick just blinked at him. "Oh, come on, who hasn't seen this coming? You two are always together, she practically lives with us. But I do hope you're planning on buying a new house, because as much as I love Andre, I'm _not_ sharing a room with him."

Rick chuckled and they continued walking. "No, Andre and Judith will probably share. You're off to college next summer, so once we make sure you're settled in we'll probably buy elsewhere. Maybe in Atlanta. King County's home, but..."

"Mom's there," agreed Carl. "And so's Shane. And Michonne belongs in Atlanta. And it'd be nice to have a fresh, new start. And you don't gotta be so quick to kick me out. Who says I'm moving out when I go to college?"

"I don't _want_ you to go. Jus' preparin' myself if you do. You're a smart kid. _Man_. Any college will be lucky to have you, and I don't want you feelin' like you have to stay here."

"Maybe I'll skip college and go straight to the academy," Carl said.

"Your heart's not in policing, Son."

Carl sighed. "Nah, not really. I kinda wanna study weaponry."

"You want me to reach out to Jesus?"

"I don't know," shrugged Carl. "But I'm happy for you."

Rick grinned. "Thanks, son."

...

Later on that night, after they had had s'mores and had told scary ghost stories, after Judith and Andre had been put to bed, after Carl had assured his dad that _yes_ , he would be fine holding down the fort with his kid brother and sister, Michonne and Rick finally made their way to their own tent. Michonne was freezing, and she shivered as she changed into her pajamas. Rick smirked and let out a soft chuckle as Michonne snatched his police academy sweatshirt and pullet it over her head.

"Next time we go camping, it'll be in the summer, not fall," Michonne stated.

"All right," agreed Rick, changing into his own pajamas.

"Do you think the kids will be warm enough?"

"I think they'll be warmer than us figurin' you gave them half our blankets."

Michonne smiled slyly. "We have other ways to keep each other warm."

Rick stared at her, arching an eyebrow. "Is that right? I thought you made it quite clear there wouldn't be any of that this weekend." For some reason she was afraid the kids would hear them. It was the same thing when she had first started sleeping over, it took her _weeks_ to accept that Carl knew they slept together, it was rather obvious. Still, it had taken some convincing.

"That was before I saw the way Andre ran up to you earlier," confessed Michonne. "He adores you, you know."

"And I adore him. He's a good kid." Rick pulled her to him. "Maybe we can have a another little one we can adore."

She arched an eyebrow. "Easy, Sheriff. I wouldn't mind, but not for awhile."

"We can practice now, though." Rick's voice was husky and Michonne's laugh was swallowed when his lips found hers.

They got underneath the covers, their bodies moving together in sync and in rhythm with each other. Rick would have preferred totally naked but it was too cold for that. Besides, he'd certainly mastered getting inside of her with their clothes on: quickies against her bedroom door, pinned up against her office at the art gallery, bent over the kitchen counter.

Lately if they were naked at all it was a miracle.

He was determined to take her away on vacation - some place tropical, with white sand and waterfalls.

A honeymoon sounded nice.

Rick moved in and out of her, wanting to take his time, but every time he was inside of her he lost all control; he buried his face in her neck, mesmerized by her scent. Without meaning to he moaned out her name, his strokes speeding up. Michonne slid her hands underneath Rick's shirt, digging her nails into his back, her hips thrusting up to meet his, her breath coming out in gasps.

They moved together, Rick seeing stars. He thought he'd be used to it by now, but honestly, it happened every single time. It was like every time he was inside of her it was a new and unique experience that would never, ever, ever get old.

"Rick," Michonne called, arching her back. "I'm about to cum."

He grunted, speeding up, determined to finish with her. He cursed and murmured out her name again.

"Rick, kiss me." Rick looked down, his brain buzzing, knowing she was saying words but unable to make them out. "Kiss me or I'm going to scream."

He understood the minute she clenched around him, and he silenced her cry with his lips, swallowing down her orgasm. He kept his lips attached to hers until he had his fill, until his head was spinning from lack of oxygen, and then rolled off of her. She snuggled up next to him almost immediately, slipping her pajama pants back up, and was asleep after a few moments.

Rick waited several moments before slowly and cautiously sliding out of her embrace. She stirred gently but stayed asleep. He fixed himself and then reached the few feet and grabbed his pants, dug into the pocket, and grabbed the small velvet box. He opened it, slid the ring out, and crawled back to the sleeping bag. Michonne, as usual, gravitated towards him.

Rick smiled and grabbed her ring finger, gently sliding the ring onto her finger.

The next morning Michonne woke up, smiling softly as she stared at Rick's sleeping form. One of her favorite things to do was watch him sleep. He was just so handsome. She lightly traced the lines in his face, and then placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. Carefully sliding from under the covers, Michonne exited out of the sleeping bag.

She started grabbing a few toiletries, like her mouthwash, toothbrush, and spearmint and baking soda toothpaste when she caught her first glimpse of it.

All thoughts - thoughts of checking on the children, and starting breakfast, and how she would let Rick sleep in since he worked so hard - honestly the man needed a vacation - all those things stopped the minute she stared at the large princess cut ring on her finger.

On her _engagement_ finger.

Her _ring_ finger.

She stared at it, staring at its clarity, and the fact that the band was made of diamonds. It was clearly platinum, and utterly perfect. They had never discussed what kind of ring she would want - she had never thought about it, ever - but if she had taken a moment to think about it, _this_ would have been it. Rick knew her so well.

They'd _hinted_ at marriage a few times- mainly when he had asked her to move in about a year ago. She had told him that she had tried that once before, and it hadn't ended well, her and Andre's father could barely speak to each other for those first few months. They had grown past it, thankfully, but Michonne had vowed next time she would be married. They had mentioned it a few times since then, just simple things in passing, casual things that they could laugh off, but this was... this...

This was an _engagement_ ring.

He wanted to marry her. He wanted to make her his wife. And she wanted to _be_ his wife.

All these thoughts went through her head in a matter of seconds.

Finally she squealed, and then she was on top of Rick, showering him with a thousand kisses.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," was all she could say, even as Rick stared at her, his eyes unfocused, and she found him so damn adorable she thought she might burst. It took him a few moments to finally fully awake, and then he sent her a soft smile.

"Is that a yes, then?"

"It's a hell yes," Michonne said, her lips on his. "I love you."

Rick caressed her cheek, his eyes twinkling. "I love you too."

When she pulled away she gently bit her lip. "C'mon, let's go tell the kids." She was giddy with happiness, he realized.

Rick snorted. "After you."

And together they made their way to start today, and what would ultimately become the rest of their lives.

* * *

A/N: I left it open so that you can have it happen how you want. How I see it is they're engaged for about a year, getting married right before Carl goes off to college (Hilltop University, where he would study weaponry). Richonne would get married on somebody's beach, and honeymoon in Europe (mainly France/Italy). They would move to ATL, into a nice house where everybody would have plenty of room. Michonne's Art Gallery would prove to be successful, and Rick would join the ATL police department, trading in his Sheriff title for detective, where he'd make partners with Morgan. Eventually he would retire early to make more time with his family, which includes a pair of twins, born a few years after they got married. They had a boy and a girl, both with their father's bright blue eyes and their moms cocoa skin. And they all lived happily ever after.

Again, it has been my pleasure. It's been real, fellow Richonner's. I'm sorry that my love for this show has dwindled to the point that I'm not even interested in writing anymore. Maybe a gif will spark a one shot somewhere along the way, maybe it won't. I thought about just quitting all together, but I felt I owed it to all of you to post the one-shots I have written. I was hoping that it would provide the closure you needed.

Sometimes, there just is no happily ever after.

Thank you all for all the support over the past year and a half. Every prompt, every message, every suggestion, every Review... I truly appreciate them all. Nearly every review has left me with a smile on my face. With the exception of the latest ones, asking for a continuation of a certain story, or the ones requesting a certain prompt, because I knew I wasn't going to continue this story, or any other TWD story. I'm sorry I can't give you all what you want. But I'm so glad you all took this journey with me, no matter how short.

You all take care. And any of you aboard the Hayffie ship, know I'm still writing that.

Peace, love, light, and soul.

-idcabtthisish


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